


In Our Own Time

by fondueyourself



Series: If We Don't Destroy Ourselves [4]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: American Sign Language, Anxiety, Background Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes because the series ties together, Clint Barton Has Issues, Clint Barton-centric, Comic Book Clint, Deaf Clint Barton, Drunk Confession, Emotional Clint, M/M, MCU/AoS Phil, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Original Character(s), PTSD, Porn With Plot, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slow Burn, probably like 40/60 porn to plot ratio, quick build, semi-stoic Phil, signing during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fondueyourself/pseuds/fondueyourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a drunken confession of a long-time crush, sparks are flying between Clint and Coulson. But they can't stay in a happy romance bubble forever, can they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.

Clint lined up his last shot, the arrow poised in bow and hand like a bird gliding over easy prey. His eyes fixed on the target, shoulders even, elbow bent at shoulder height, fingers tense at the string for a moment longer; he let it go. In a blink the arrow thudded into the target. 

A familiar voice behind him said, “Nice shot.”

“Sure, but he still can’t split an arrow.” Katie teased before Clint could respond. He turned around and Agent Coulson was there, leaning on the doorframe. His jacket was loose, the top two or three buttons undone on his shirt, and his tie was draped, untied, on his shoulders. It was too casual, and Clint didn’t know how to respond. His memory flashed to a dream he had shortly after meeting Coulson the first time. Tie loose, shirt undone, his lips grazing over salt and pepper chest hair. He stopped the thought in its tracks and busied himself by removing his gear.

“Sir,” Clint nodded at him. He still wasn’t sure how to talk to him when they weren’t working.

“Barton, can we talk?” Coulson’s lips tightened into a slight smile, and his eyes flicked to Kate and back. 

Clint thought for a moment, “She’s Hawkeye too, ya know.” 

He gave a real smile then, “I’d rather talk to Clint than Hawkeye.”

“Oh,” Clint was actually surprised.

“There’s my cue.” Katie grabbed her bow and quiver and shouldered past Agent Coulson. “See ya ‘round, Hawkeye.”

“Later, Hawkeye.” Clint called after her. He moved to the bench in the middle of the room and dumped the gear into his bag, then began digging for a cleaner shirt. He and Kate had been sparing before shooting, and he probably stank. “What do you wanna talk about, Sir?”

“You can call me Phil and when we’re not in the field.” Agent Coulson said, and sat down next to Clint. “I’ve never understood why you don’t.”

Clint thought before answering, “We’re only friends when you’re not giving orders. I like you Coulson, but you’re still my boss.” 

A silence that wasn’t altogether uncomfortable fell over them while Clint pulled off his sweat stained shirt and replaced it with a less smelly one. He felt Phil’s eyes on him, and fought the urge to smirk. “Do you want to go get a drink?” Coulson asked.

Clint did smirk then, “Sure, Phil.” 

What Clint didn’t count on was one drink turning into many, complete with reminiscing on old missions, telling jokes about his fellow Avengers, and emotional confessions of not liking sports.

“I just don’t get it. Why is football such a big thing?” Phil was half leaning on the bar, and half on Clint, who smiled at him.

Clint had no more liking for football, but his mind was cloudy and on a different track. “We should have done this a while ago. I mean, we see each other all the time, but like, we don’t really talk.” Clint was rambling, but he didn’t care. "Phil, you get it. You’re a great guy. Can we uh, can we do this more?”

“Absolutely! You know, when I came to see you today, I was hoping we might end up here.” Phil’s face was really close to Clint’s then. “I mean not, like, here at the bar, but here as in, here.” He leaned in closer and Clint could feel his breath on his face. “I want to be your friend Clint, but really,” He paused to laugh, and looked up at Clint’s eyes. Clint never noticed how deep they were; they seemed to change color in the light. He couldn’t see his own face but he felt like he was grinning like an idiot. “I have had a crush on you for eight years, Barton.”

Clint’s eyes widened and he leaned impossibly closer. He couldn’t believe it. He’d wanted to ask Phil out for years, but always thought that Phil would be offended, or that it would be too weird now that Phil was Director; that he missed his chance before-. Maybe he was too drunk to listen to that reasoning now. “No way! You too?” He knew he was grinning then, before Phil’s mouth covered his. Their lips met in an uncoordinated, alcohol flavored kiss. Clint nearly fell off the bar stool trying to lean into it. Phil laughed at him and Clint looked up. 

Then it hit him. Coulson had a crush on him. His boss just kissed him. He felt like he ought to be scared, or angry, or even disgusted, but instead he was giddy. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d felt giddy. Then his brain turned into a little kid saying “Let’s do that again!” And he put his hand at the back of Phil’s neck and pulled him into another kiss. Phil stepped off the barstool and put his hand on Clint’s waist. Clint stood too and pulled him closer; he licked Phil’s bottom lip. 

Phil suddenly pulled back. “Wait, no.” He took a step back and sighed. “No, Clint I’m sorry. We can’t. You- you were right before, I’m still your boss. It’s not right.” He turned and walked out of the bar. Clint was glad that it was too crowded for anyone to have noticed them. That probably looked really bad. He paid their bill quickly and followed Phil out. On the street there was no sign of him. He racked his brain to remember the guy’s address, and started walking. Either the kiss was sobering, or he wasn’t as drunk as he thought because he actually made it to Phil’s apartment pretty quickly. 

He knocked on the door and hoped that Phil hadn’t passed out yet. After a minute Clint was longing for a cab ride to his bed, but then the door opened. “Hey, what if I don’t care that you’re my boss?” Clint asked before he could even look at Phil. When he did he wondered if this was the same person. It was Phil, but without the suit he looked . . . the only word Clint could think of was “real.” He always knew that Coulson didn’t actually wear suits 24/7, but in his mind, Phil and the suit were one. Now, seeing him in boxer shorts and an oversized Tshirt, Clint couldn’t help but notice that this was who Phil was at home. That, and that Phil’s legs were hairier than his, and at-home-Phil was inexplicably hotter than Shield-Director-Coulson.

Phil sighed and held on to his little smile, but his eyes were sad. “What about when I’m giving orders? When we're in the field-”

Clint stepped over the threshold and wrapped his arms around Phil in a tight hug. “That won’t change.” He looked down into Phil’s eyes and said what he previously hadn't dared to say, “Will you go out with me?”

Phil sighed. He looked tired, but a smile was pulling at his lips. “Not tonight. Will you come in with me? You can have the couch.”

Clint kissed him again over the threshold, and noticed how soft Phil’s lips were. He could get used to this.


	2. Don't Fuck it Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wakes up on an unfamiliar couch and finds himself in the prelude to a relationship: regret, hope, sexual tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.

Clint blinked and rolled over onto his side. This was not his couch. He sat up and instantly regretted it. Through splitting pain he looked around the room. This was not his apartment. The couch was thick and comfortable, and it was in the middle of a living room. He turned to see a small, clean kitchen and Phil at the stove in boxers and a big Tshirt. 

He was in Phil’s apartment, and Phil was making bacon, by the smell of it. Clint thought back to the night before. He was on the couch, so he knew they hadn’t slept together, and all he remembered was a lot of making out. Phil turned around and like a light switch flipping, Clint began to panic. They’d gotten drunk and . . . oh no. It wasn’t just a “We got drunk and fucked and it’s awkward but it’s okay because alcohol.” No, Clint remembered what Phil said. Eight years? And Clint said it was okay that Phil was his boss? No that can’t be right. Clint had thought about Phil before, but it was just fantasy. He never really thought it could happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. What if things went wrong? They’d both be suspended, and what would the others think? Natasha would kill him, but only if Kate didn’t get to him first. He wasn’t even out to them. This was bad. Why was Drunk Clint so stupid? Why did relationships have to be so stupid?

Then he realized Phil was talking to him, or rather, signing to him. Clint blinked and saw “- egg morning?” 

Clint shrugged and signed, “Coffee?” and then looked around for his hearing aids. He wasn’t used to putting them in first thing in the morning, and Phil was pretty good with Sign, but he wasn’t sure he could articulate what he wanted to say with his hands. He found them on an end table. He adjusted them and cleared his throat, making Phil turn around again, this time with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Clint. “Thanks.” Clint said aloud. His voice was rough, so he downed half the cup, burning his throat.

“Good morning.” Phil smiled and took a sip.

Hearing his voice didn’t really help his headache, but he appreciated the softness in it anyway. “Hey. So uhm, about last night . . .”

“Clint, wait. If you want to take back what you said, that’s fine, but I stand by it. I really like you, Barton. I’d like to keep you around.” Phil leaned on the counter and fiddled with a carton of eggs.

“I don’t -, I mean, it’s not that I want to take it back. I just don’t know if I can do it, Phil. I like you, but I don’t want to fuck this up.” Clint drank the rest of his coffee and looked at his feet. He noticed then that he was wearing Avengers sweatpants, courtesy of Phil Coulson. He smiled to himself and wondered how he could tell the guys about this without giving away that he’d gone home with Phil.

“Don’t fuck it up then. Let’s just try it.” Phil took a step closer and set his coffee on the counter to take one of Clint’s hands. His hands were surprisingly soft; Clint ran his thumb over the back of his palm while he thought.

“Dating? You really want to? What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Well don’t condemn us before we even start. You’re a pretty good kisser, and I wouldn’t want to lose that so soon.” Phil’s eyes were on his lips. Clint damned himself for it, but Phil Coulson actually wanting his lips had him instantly turned on. When their lips met, however, there was such tenderness and blatant affection, he held back. He carefully took in the sensation of Phil’s lips moving against his. Soft and wet, pressing and pining and feeling the newness of it all. He tasted like coffee, renewing the bitterness on Clint’s tongue. Phil’s hands settled at his waist and made it more difficult for Clint to suppress his arousal. His tongue moved urgently between Phil lips. Phil pulled him a step closer, an invitation that had their bodies pressed together. Clint’s hand threaded through Phil’s hair, short and soft. Phil’s breath was heavy against his mouth, and Clint noticed that he was just short of panting himself. He moved from Phil’s lips to his jaw, sucking and licking, enjoying the wet sounds mingling with Phil’s near moans against him. 

This man, his boss, his colleague, his friend, had him so hot. He’d dreamed this before, but this was unbelievably better. His cock was hard and unconcealed in the borrowed sweatpants, and Phil’s own erection tented his boxers against Clint’s thigh. He gripped Phil’s shoulder and in one swift movement, pinned him against the counter and ground into the man’s hip. The friction sent his head spinning, and he leaned his head on Phil’s shoulder to steady himself. He never imagined this could actually happen. Phil was a few inches shorter than he was, he now noticed, as the man craned his neck to find his lips again. 

“Clint,” he said breathily when they resurfaced. His name had never sounded so beautiful. “Mmm, Clint don’t-“

Clint had stretched Phil’s shirt to suck a hickey below his collarbone. His tongue licked at the spot once more before letting go with a wet pop.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Phil started, pushing Clint back a step. Clint’s heart dropped and pounded in his stomach. Here it comes, he thought anxiously. The booze-fuzzy argument from last night flew front and center in his mind. 

_“It’s unethical. We still work together. It would be dangerous in the field; we would be emotionally compromised.”_ Coulson had said, his hand carding through Barton’s hair.

_“But it’s dangerous even without the dating part because the feelings are still there.” _Clint had argued._ “I’ve been compromised because of you before. We push through.”_

He remembered hearing about Phil's death, and how he had shouldered the unfathomable pain during the Battle of New York. He imagined Phil's eyes going blank, while his own eyes were lit blue. He shook himself out of the memory. Phil’s eyes were dark with longing now, and he laced his fingers with Clint’s. An apologetic half-smile played on his lips. “You’re gonna hate me. I’ve got to go in ten minutes. My team-“ 

Clint let go a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Of course Phil wasn’t rejecting him, Clint chided himself, ignoring his fears. He just had not-quite-SHIELD duties. He nodded and stepped forward again, intentionally pressing his thigh between Phil’s legs, all confidence again. He earned a soft moan and pressed a chaste kiss to Phil’s cheek before walking back to the couch with the plate of bacon and eggs. 

Phil spun on his heel to watch Clint search for the TV remote, as if he already lived here. As if they hadn’t been grinding feverishly against each other thirty seconds ago. Clint found the remote and clicked it on as Phil padded into his bedroom. He couldn’t focus on the channel though because of the thought of Phil in a quick cold shower, naked and washing off the scent of Clint. Then he was imagining him putting on his Director Coulson suit and tie. Clint smiled to himself. He knew. Phil Coulson was way better than the Director. He felt privileged to see the man behind the ‘mask’, knowing that Coulson was gentle and sweet and fucking gorgeous under the suit. Clint changed into his clothes from the day before. He was going to snap a picture of Coulson’s Avenger pants to show his friends, but he cursed himself when he saw the too-obvious wet spot on the crotch. He didn’t feel like explaining that one just yet.

Coulson came out of the bedroom, exactly as Clint had first met him so many years ago. He wore a dark grey suit, pristine white shirt, blue striped tie, and the straight stance of obvious ex-military. Clint stood up, glad that his dick had calmed down in the last few minutes. “Sir.” Clint stood in mocking form of attention. 

“At ease.” Phil squinted at him.

Clint crossed the room and pulled Coulson by his waist into a passionate kiss. He did his best to ruffle him without actually messing up his suit. Their tongues slid together and Clint actually groaned at the loss when Coulson pulled away. “Don’t miss me too much, Sir.” Clint slapped his ass as they walked out. He'd always wanted to do that.


	3. Sly Cupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate is annoyed and Clint is horny. Mischief ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.

Clint’s phone buzzed in his pocket, jerking him from the nap he was about to fall into. He looked up from the couch and his door opened. Thanks to Stark he knew when someone knocked on his door, or barged in as with Kate, by a phone alert.

Kate took one look at him and rolled her eyes. “Wake up, do not.” She signed. “Only me.”

Clint smirked and gave her the finger. He reached for his hearing aids on the table, and fell off the couch before he grabbed them. He really couldn’t catch a break today.

“Where were you last night?” Kate asked when he had the aids on. “I came by with pizza and had to share it with Lucky. You get laid?”

“Aww Kate, he has dog food you know. And uhm. No?” It wasn’t a lie, but Clint really didn’t want to give her the whole truth. He sat back up and moved so Lucky could lay next to him. “I was with Coulson. We uh, got drunk and he lent me his couch.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t press. “Good that I came to feed your dog then.” She slumped on the couch like she owned the place. “Have you caught up on Dog Cops yet?”

“I’m like four episodes behind.” Clint sighed. He liked Kate, he really did, but he just wanted to be away from people. Couldn’t he just get a nap in before his life turned upside down again? His head hit the back of the couch, and he felt Katie’s eyes on him.

“You’re different.” She said. “Something happened last night.”

“Yeah I had to sleep on Phil’s couch. By different you mean tired. Which really isn’t different.”

“So he’s ‘Phil’ now?”

Clint opened his eyes and turned his head to glare at her. “Do you have a problem with me having friends my own age or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s just, well, you like him, don’t you?” Clint furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean?” He knew very well what she meant, but he foolishly still had hope.

“Oh come on, are we in high school? Even I would look twice at Coulson, and he’s twice my age.”

“What?”

“Your secret’s safe with me. And I bet he likes you too.”

“What?” Clint couldn’t find any other words.

Kate fixed a pitying smile on him. “You.” She signed as she spoke, “Date. C-O-U-L-S-O-N. Yes? Or no?”

“I-, he-, how did you know?”

“Please. You’re tense, tired but nervous, and you’re hiding something but you’re happy about it. I can read you like a book Barton. You went out with Coulson and something happened and you are giving off major sexual repression vibes. Plus you butt-dialed me while making out with him last night.”

“Oh my god.” Clint’s head fell into his hands. “If you tell /anyone/ I will hunt you down-”

“Relax Princess, you can stay in the closet as long as you like. Just don’t make me answer the phone to hear /that/ again.” She stood up, pet Lucky, and left before Clint could apologize. 

**

Coulson had just finished briefing a team of specialists on another HYDRA takedown mission when he heard knocking sound in the ceiling of his office.

“Who’s there?” He called in mocking tone, already having his suspicions.  


“Cupid.” Barton opened a ceiling panel and climbed down to sit on Coulson’s desk. “Did ya miss me, Boss?” He had ceiling popcorn and dust in his hair, his bullseye shirt was rumpled and half tucked into his jeans, and he wore a shit eating grin that dared defiance. He reached out and pulled Coulson closer by a finger in his belt.

Coulson would have disarmed and throttled any other intruder in seconds, but coming from Clint, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “When I was tasked with handling the Avengers this isn’t really what I pictured.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think the others were really up for it, so I figured I’d take all the handling for myself.”  


Coulson smiled, “I assume you kicked out the peanut gallery?”

“Cameras and mics prove that you’re doing paperwork for the next twenty minutes. You really should up your security in here. I mean just because I know all your passwords . . .”

“I’ll have to work on that.” Phil leaned down over Clint and pressed their lips together. He brushed the dust from Clint’s hair and cupped his face in his hand. Clint’s stubble tickled his fingers. Clint moved his lips to suck on Phil’s lower lip. Phil pulled them apart enough to move between Clint’s spread legs. He kissed down Clint’s jaw and sucked a small spot just under his ear. The resulting moan from Clint made him freeze. “The walls are thin. If you’re not quiet we’ll be found.” He whispered and nipped at his ear.  


“Sorry, god I’ve been waiting all day for this. No, scratch that, years. I’ve been waiting years, Phil.” His hands wandered from Phil’s back pockets to his belt.

Phil shivered involuntarily and pushed Clint’s shirt up to get his hands on him while Clint undid his pants. He captured his lips again as Clint palmed his erection through his briefs. His tongue met Clint’s and he hummed quietly. He moved his hand up and ran it over Clint’s light chest hair until he found a nipple. He tweaked it, and marveled at the rapid rise and fall of Clint’s chest. 

He pulled back and pulled off his tie and loosened his shirt. Clint undid his jeans and slid them down along with his boxers. Phil took Clint’s dick in his hand and pumped him lightly before dropping to his knees in front of his desk. Clint held one hand at Phil’s shoulder and the other pushed through his hair. Phil kissed and licked the inside of his thighs, still jerking him slow. He wanted to make Clint ache for him, but they were short on time. 

He licked to the base of Clint’s cock, mentally thanking the Barton genepool for going easy on the hair. His hand moved to the head and spread precum down the length before taking it in his mouth. Clint’s hands gripped him and Phil looked up to see him biting back sounds. Phil tongued the head experimentally and Clint whispered a stream of obscenities. Phil took him in further and squeezed the base with his hand. His other hand slipped into his own pants to jerk himself. He couldn’t suppress a moan when he looked up at Clint’s face. 

He was so beautiful, head thrown back, bitten lips, sweat beading at his messy blond hairline, and his hard cock buried between Phil's lips. Phil bobbed his head and sucked hard. His hand mirrored the movement on himself, and he felt his climax building. Clint was white-knuckling Phil’s shoulder and they made eye contact as his hips began to jerk. Phil pulled back and held him steady before lapping at the head of Clint’s cock again. Clint’s breathing was ragged and he whimpered Phil’s name.  


“Oh jesus Phil, yes!” He breathed. Then he was coming hard in Phil’s mouth. Phil struggled to lick him clean while keeping himself from coming in his pants.

Clint pulled Phil with shaky hands into the desk chair. Phil sat back as Clint knelt and took Phil’s aching dick in his mouth. It was mere seconds before Phil was coming, biting his hand to hold back from shouting. Clint swirled his tongue around his cock as he shook. His bones turned to jelly as he came down from his best orgasm in years. Clint had more mind than he did and tucked them both back into their pants before sitting in Phil’s lap. 

Laughter shook through Phil like a waterfall. “If I had known we could have that, I’d have drunkenly come out to you years ago.” He pulled Clint down into a lazy kiss.  


“Two minutes left.” Clint pulled away sadly. They stood up and procrastinated, lips locked together for another minute before Clint hoisted himself back into the vent. 

Coulson hastily fixed his shirt and pulled some paperwork together at his desk. The only change in the security video footage was the mess of Phil’s hair and the flush in his cheeks.


	4. Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-dumpster fix up with help from the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.
> 
> Woo guest appearances!

Clint sat on wet asphalt, leaning against the dumpster he’d just crawled out of, trying to catch his breath. He clutched a broken hearing aid in his left hand and a blind man’s fold up cane in his right. Murdock lived close by and could have easily found the cane himself, but Clint was already looking for his aid, so why not grab Matt’s too. He rubbed his forehead and found that his cut had stopped bleeding. He heaved himself off the ground, grumbled about “luck” and “wet butt”, and limped out of the alley.

It was only half a block to Murdock’s shady apartment. He knocked on the door, not expecting an answer, and dropped the cane on the floor for his friend to collect later. As he walked back to the street, a cab pulled up. The window opened to reveal Captain America himself. Of course Steve would take a cab to get around.

“Need a ride?” Steve looked sympathetic. Actually it was probably closer to empathy if the stories Barnes told were true. Clint shrugged and climbed in.

“How’s it going Cap?” He asked after giving the cabbie his address. Thankfully, his left hearing aid was still intact; Steve didn’t know ASL, and last time Clint was without his aids Steve had resorted to some kind of weird miming. 

“I can’t complain, but uh, you don’t look so great.” 

“Nothing I can’t handle. But I might need Stark to look at this.” He showed the broken aid. “With Shield gone, my insurance got flushed.”

“Oh, I was actually headed over to the Tower myself. I was gonna bring Bucky to meet the gang, but he wasn’t really up for it.”

They pulled around in front of the new Avengers home base and Steve paid the cabby. They took the elevator past Stark Industries, past the apartments, up to the main recreation floor. 

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Barton are here, Sir.” Jarvis told the room when the doors opened. At the back of the wide open rec-room Tony and Bruce sat on a couch playing a holographic game of chess.

“Hey! Cap and Katniss, what’s up?” Tony called them over.

Most of Tony’s furniture was sleek, black and metal, but this floor was designed to be home to all of the Avengers. Even though they rarely ever lived here all at once, Clint appreciated the effort. The floor was dark wood, with a few navy rugs. There was a pool table in the center, a raised platform from which he could walk to the windows and look out at the city, and in the corner, where Bruce and Tony were, the floor was sunken so the backs of the couches were level with the floor around it. The couches and chairs were comfy recliners, just like Clint would have bought if he could waste money like Stark. A large glass coffee table held a small collection of books and magazines about everything from the latest engineering breakthroughs to yoga to comic books on the shelf within. This was also where Tony had set up his holographic projectors, just for movie nights, Tony had claimed, though everyone knew he would find a billion other uses for them, including bringing work from the labs upstairs. 

“I found Clint post-dumpster in Hell’s Kitchen on my way over here.” Steve plopped down on the end of the dark cotton sectional.

“Yeah, Tony do you think you could fix this up for me?” Clint held out his broken hearing aid.

“Aww yeah," He stood up,"You mind, Bruce?" Banner shrugged, and Tony led the way to a steel spiral staircase down to the floor below. "I’ve been waiting for you to ask for an upgrade. I’ve already got something made. You’ll have to get them calibrated, but I think you’ll like them.” At the foot of the stairs was a small lab with gear suited for each of the Avengers. Clint had only been down here once before, when Tony “fixed” his bow. The new bow was compound with a 60 lb draw weight and was not at all like the recurve Clint was used to. 

Tony pulled a small aluminum box off a shelf and held it out to Clint. The aids inside looked identical to his current set. 

“I may have borrowed your old ones while you were sleeping to make sure I got the right fit. You can have them calibrated just downstairs. We’ve got full med staff since all the uh, trouble we run into. That and, you know, hospitals are overrated.” Tony rambled a bit about the tower’s new amenities.

“Thanks man. These look great. Any special tricks?” Clint interrupted.

“Well aside from letting you hear voices from a mile away with the press of a button, they’ll connect to our private comm link, HD FM and satellite radio, and they’re Bluetooth enabled to be headphones.” Tony pulled one of the aids out of the box and pointed to the pin sized controls. “Oh and there’s a condensed, essentials only version of Jarvis programed into the comm link function, and if you’re within a 30 mile radius of the Tower you’ll have wifi access to full Jarvis.”

“Damn.” Clint raised his eyebrows and looked closer at the tiny devices. “You fit all that in there?”

“Well most of it is through wifi and satellite access. Aside from normal hearing aid stuff I found online, there’s a microprocessor and a satellite link-”

“Don’t let him sell it short.” Bruce appeared behind Clint, “He worked on that for over a month.”

“Yeah well I had to custom make the parts, mold the exterior; you can’t make perfect in a day.” Tony shrugged. “Three floors down is medical. Look for Dr. Halpert. He’ll fix you up quick.”

Clint nodded and made his way down. A little more than an hour later, he had to admit, the fit was perfect. Halpert was quick too. Leave it to Tony Stark to find the best otolaryngologist in New York. Back in the living room Steve and Bruce were in the middle of a game of pool, and Nat had appeared and was arguing with Tony about god knows what. If the world only knew how The Avengers were at home.

“No way, he’s definitely Rapunzel. Look at his hair!” Tony waved his hand around and pulled up two pictures with the holo-screen. Thor next to Rapunzel from the movie Tangled.

“But that makes Foster Flynn Rider though, and that’s ridiculous. He’s more like Anna from Frozen. They’re both strong willed, kind of crazy, smarter than they look, and that pegs Jane as Christoph, who’s smart, dorky-”

“Blond, clumsy, and best friends with a deer.” Clint interjected, plopping down on the back of the couch. “Thor may be Anna, but there is no way that Jane is Christoph. That does mean that Loki is Elsa though, and that does make sense in crazy powers at least.” He turned to Tony, “They fit great. I connected them to my phone too to test everything. Gotta hand it to you, Stark, you’d give Santa a run for his money in gift giving.”

“Yeah well, what’s a crazy inventor to do?” Tony shrugged. “So what princess is he?” he looked at Natasha.

“Definitely Merida.” She crossed her arms and looked at Clint as if to say “Don’t even try to argue.” Clint glared back.

“Ha! Not even just from the bow! He’s stubborn, went against his family, doesn’t go for romance, competitive, adventurous for the hell of it, Clint you are so Merida!”

Doesn’t go for romance. Clint couldn’t even argue without revealing himself. Was it even romance though? What he and Phil were doing didn’t really feel like dating. As if on cue, a voice in Clint’s ear said “Phil Coulson calling,” making Clint jump.

“Answer.” Clint said, swinging himself off the couch and walking across the room. “Good afternoon Sir.”

“Oh, Agent Barton, I got word that your last mission went dumpster-side. I’m checking in to uh, see that you report any injuries.” Coulson made the transition easy enough, Clint was glad to hear.

“Relax Coulson, I’m at the Tower now. No injuries, but Stark fixed me up with a new hearing aid. I’m hands free if you need to send me in anywhere.” He didn’t think anyone would be eavesdropping here, but he didn’t want to give anything away in his tone.

“Well by no means is this an order, but I was thinking we could have dinner together. If you’ve got plans...”

“Understood Sir, what’s your 20?”

“That little Italian joint you like in the Lower East Side?” Clint could hear the smile in his voice. It was the place they took Shield newbies after their first mission. It was the best meatball sub Clint could find off the Island.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Best to shower first.” Clint could still smell a hint of dumpster on himself.

"Alright, see you." He pressed the button in his left ear to hang up the phone.

“Was that Agent Mommy?” Tony called from the couch.

“Yeah, I’ve got a quick mission. I’ll see you guys later.” Clint avoided Natasha’s eyes lest she see the easy lie.

“More take-out for us then.” Steve shrugged.

Clint stepped into the elevator. “Yeah, don’t wait up. Thanks again Stark.”

“You only love me for my tech.” Tony chided before the elevator doors closed.


	5. So I Don't Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dog Cops is interrupted by Phil's worrying; Clint cheers him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.
> 
> This one was actually the first chapter that I wrote.

Clint sighed and looked up from the beginning of an episode of Dog Cops. "It's just a sprain, Phil, I'm fine."

"Just let me look at it. I'll be gentle." Phil sat on the battered couch in Clint's apartment turned towards Clint as he tried in vain to watch his favorite show. Clint gave in and moved his splinted wrist to Phil's lap.

"It doesn't even hurt anymore. I had it on ice an hour ago." Clint said softly as Phil's fingers carefully removed the splint. He winced at the movement, but didn't look away from the TV. "I don't need you to nurse me, Babe. It happens all the time. I can handle it."

"I know you can." Phil's hand held his like it was fine china. His fingers were rough but comforting against his skin. "Well it's not too swollen, but I don't want to see you holding a bow in the next few days." He gingerly put the splint back on before lifting his arm to kiss his fingers. Clint tried not to smile at the affectionate gesture. He was supposed to be annoyed at being out of the field. Phil looked at him thoughtfully, and he paused the TV to turn toward him.

"What is it?" His right hand was still cupped between both of Phil's, and that's where his eyes landed.

"Why don't you ever report your injuries?" 

Of course, he was concerned. So very motherly, Phil was about his agents, about Clint. He breathed deeply, willing himself to give a straight answer instead of sarcasm. "Look at me, Phil. I am covered head to toe in band-aids." He pointed to the one on his big toe for emphasis. "If I reported all my injuries, my file would be three feet thick. I go in for gunshots and shrapnel and anything lethal. I don't need to tell them about every ache and pain. Besides, Stark added med staff to the list of Avengers perks. They gave me the splint for free!"

"Alright, well what if you just told me? Not as your superior, but as your ... friend. As someone who cares about you." He paused slightly before 'friend', but Clint knew what he wanted to say. "Just so I don't worry?"

Clint didn't realize Phil cared this much. As their relationship moved further away from Shield, beyond even friends, their dynamic hadn't actually changed much. They were more social of course, and there was some kissing, cuddling, and the sex, oh the sex was spectacular, but outside their comfort zones they still acted the same toward each other. They didn't share much about their personal lives, except for Phil showing Clint his apartment and occasionally wearing T-shirts instead of his suits. Even before "the big drunk kiss", as Clint has mentally named it, he would still invite Phil over for beers after a particularly rough mission sometimes. Overall, not a lot had changed for either of them. He hadn't considered that Phil might actually be serious about all this relationship stuff. He hadn’t really allowed himself to think about the future beyond tomorrow. Which now that he thought about it, was ridiculous. Clint obviously liked Phil romantically. He just didn't want to use that word until he was sure. And if Phil didn't feel the same way, he wouldn't still be here. But that Phil would actually worry about him? That had never really crossed his mind.

"Really?" Clint said finally. "You really worry about me?" He tried not to sound too stupid, but wasn't sure it was working.  
"Of course I worry about you." Phil's face melted into concern and something else. Clint tried not to think about the something else. "Honestly I worry about all my agents, but you ... you've always been different. When you're in the field I want to have eyes on you all the time. And when you run off on these solo missions fighting tracksuits and creeps, I worry about whether you’ll be able to pull yourself out of the dumpster on your own. I trust you to watch your back, but even so, I can't stand to think what I'd do if something happened to you." Phil had taken both of Clint's hands now, and his eyes seemed so deep in Clint's gaze. Clint could barely process it. He wondered if his new hearing aid was going fritzy because the silence in the room was so heavy. 

A minute passed before he spoke. He looked down at their hands. Clint's right hand was half in a splint and half twined in Phil's, and Phil's right hand cupped Clint's in his palm. Clint couldn't tell which one of them was trembling, but he wasn't sure it mattered. "My shoulder dislocated last night from a tracksuit slamming into me." His voice was quiet, but his aids were still working. "Katie helped me pop it back, and I didn't have enough ice so I had to use frozen french fries." He looked up and Phil wore a soft smile. His arm slid around to Clint's back and pulled him closer, careful not to push his shoulder as their lips pressed together.

When they pulled apart Clint rested his forehead on Phil's shoulder. Phil lazily rubbed small circles into his back. "Do you want to go back to Dog Cops?" He whispered. 

Clint sat up and shook his head. "Time, late." he signed before removing his aids. No matter how well they fit, his ears were always sore at the end of the day. "I want suck your dick." He signed with a smirk. 

Phil fought a smile, “I can’t stay night.” He signed, “Training meeting morning.” But even with the excuse Clint saw a hint of mischief in his eyes before he was pulled into another, deeper kiss. Phil lay back and Clint leaned into him, letting his tongue slip lazily over Phil’s lips. An insistent hand gripped his ass, and he took it as an invitation to grind down with his legs between Phil’s. The feel of Phil’s cock pressed to his, even with their pants between them, lit Clint up like a fire. Their kisses grew desperate and Phil growled around their sloppy kisses. Clint felt it in his chest and sat up laughing. Phil’s eyes were shot with lust. He signed with quick, almost clumsy fingers, “Bed. I’ll skip meeting.”

Clint grinned and stood, taking Phil's hand and pulling him up too before replacing the hand on his ass and going in for another kiss. They stumbled, still trying to maintain friction between them until they got to the stairs. Phil shed his socks and pants, and worked the buttons on his shirt as he climbed the stairs after Clint, who had somehow managed to remove everything but his boxers on the way up, without falling. They collapsed on the bed and Clint winced when he landed on his shoulder. Phil took the opportunity to mount him. With one leg on either side of his waist, he ground his still clothed groin into the groove between Clint's thigh and cock. Clint pulled him down to kiss him, wet and desperate as they rocked together. 

"Still gonna suck you." Clint said aloud between kisses, hoping his volume was decent. Phil moved down and pressed his teeth to Clint's skin. Clint understood this to mean 'patience'.

Their previous few times before had been rushed, either out of lust and frenzy or from necessity. Their first time, in Phil's office, had been both. Now though, Phil seemed determined to make it last. Clint shivered under his touch. Warm fingers slid over his shoulders and down his arms. Their hands laced together and Phil brought them up to rest on the bed above Clint's head. Clint hitched a breath when he lowered his head to suck a nipple without warning.

"Jesus, Phil!" He yelped as the other man nipped the sensitive flesh. Phil jumped in surprise, and Clint knew he was a bit loud. "Sorry." He whispered. Phil smiled and moved farther south. His hand rested in Clint's light chest hair, stroking idly while he licked and kissed around his abdomen. His fingers trailed under the waistband, pulling it down to suck a hickey into Clint's hip bone. 

Clint didn't want to rush him, but he didn't know how much more he could take. He sat up abruptly and rolled Phil onto his back, pinning him. Phil could only sign 

"Slow" as Clint was yanking down his briefs, followed by his own boxers. If he wanted slow, Clint could give him slow. He moved down and trailed his fingers through Phil's copious chest hair and happy-trail. He followed his hands with his tongue. He pumped Phil's cock light and smooth. Then licked around the base, inhaling the deep musk in his hair before licking a stripe up the bottom of his dick. Phil let out a moan that shuddered through his skin and his hands fell into Clint's hair. 

Clint nuzzled into the hands before leaning down and taking the head of his cock in his mouth. It was all Clint could do not to hump into the mattress while he sucked Phil down. He wished that he could hear the sounds Phil made. He knew from the first time that he was pretty vocal. He looked up to Phil's face and saw him panting open mouthed, staring at the ceiling. Clint idly wondered if he ought to put a mirror up there. Phil bit his lip and their eyes met, and Clint swore it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. He reached down and jerked himself lightly with his splinted hand, but the rough fabric only made things worse. 

Instead he focused on Phil, who was coming undone at the workings of Clint's tongue. He bobbed a few more times and managed to suck in his whole length. Phil's hand clenched in his hair and held him there. Clint tried to hold it but coughed and pulled back. Phil looked apologetic, and Clint moved up and lightly bit his shoulder as retaliation. He dropped his hips so they'd fit together and ground into him. Phil matched him with quick thrusts and wrapped his hand around them both. They panted hard together and Clint felt his climax building. He joined his hand with Phil's for extra pressure. He wasn't going to last. Their hips jerked in time, faster and rougher until Clint cried out. 

"Aww fuck, Phil!" He yelled as he came. He was pretty sure he heard Phil cry too. Still spasming he looked at Phil's face. Pure pleasure drew itself in the arch of Phil's lips and the fluttering of his eyes. Clint thought briefly of getting Steve to teach him to paint, just so he could hang that bliss on his wall.

He collapsed on the bed next to Phil and breathed. Phil's head turned to stare at him with a smile quirked on his lips. After a minute he rolled off the bed and went downstairs. Clint was halfway asleep when Phil returned with a damp towel and a glass of water. Clint wiped them both down and took a sip of Phil's water before flopping back onto the pillows. The light clicked off and the comforting weight of Phil fell into bed beside him.

Clint felt his lips right up against his ear before he heard, as though far away and yet still in bed beside him, "Kissing you was the best decision I've ever made."  
He marveled at how his life could be so great, but could only say "Ditto."


	6. Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson withholds intell on a mission, and feathers get ruffled and singed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.
> 
> This chapter twisted itself into something I wasn't really looking for, but ultimately I'm happy with the additional plot. Plus it gave you like a chapter and a half here because of it. Obviously the creatures are my OCs, and there might be a few more enemy OCs in the making.

An explosion from one of Barton's arrows shot a sharp ringing through the comm, and Coulson had to fight the urge to remove the headset. 

“Agent! What the hell is going on? This doesn’t look like Hydra!” Stark shouted through the noise. Coulson had Stark’s HUD on his screen and could see a reptilian cyborg creature, half grey-green scales, and half black metallic armor coming at Iron Man. It opened a wide toothless mouth and Stark sent a blue blast from his hand at its face before it could conjure its corrosive venom. On another display three more bionic lizards snapped long tongues at the Widow. She threw Widow’s Bites at them, but the seemed to gain energy from the electric charge. She narrowly dodged a whip from one of their spike-ended tails.

Coulson winced in sympathy and responded in the comm, “They’re not alien, if that’s what you’re getting at. -Hawkeye watch your six!” The archer jumped just as one of the creatures spat acid at his feet from behind. The cctv surveillance provided by the city was fuzzy at best, but Coulson glued his eyes to the screens while trying to explain without breaking codes. “There’re eight left in the city. The others are dead or have fled off the grid.” The director bit his tongue to avoid spitting out the name of the suspected handlers.

“Where did they go? Is someone controlling them?” Captain Rogers panted. On the screen Rogers had dented the face of one of the lizards with his shield. Thankfully the venom wasn’t corrosive to the vibranium alloy. 

“We weren’t able to trace where they disappeared, but they don’t seem like they’ll come back.” Coulson lied coolly. The creatures wouldn’t be back today, but if their creators perfected them . . .

“You can’t give them false hope.” Agent Hill said over the noise of the plane. She wasn’t on the comm, but she had obviously heard and knew the situation. “They need to know what they’re up against.”

Coulson pulled the mic away from his face. “You can’t expect me to tell them now! They’d go charging in unprepared. We need to get them out of here to safety. Then we can talk about false hope.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Dr. Banner slid the door open and charged up to Coulson’s observation deck. “You know what they’re fighting and you won’t tell them?” Banner moved to grab his earpiece to log into the team’s comm link. 

“Dr. Banner, please put that down. The last thing we need is for the Hulk to join the melee.” Coulson chided in his smooth, Director’s tone.  
Banner hesitated and set it back on the hook, “Then tell me what the fuck is going on.” His face was dark, but not green.

Coulson steadied himself with a breath. “There is information that must be withheld until we’re certain that it’s true. Shield is looking into it now.” 

“Coulson, civilians are secure underground. Police are cooperating for a change.” Barton pulled him back into the comm. The Director turned back to the screens, hoping Banner would be satisfied enough for now. Hawkeye was turning away from the subway to find a spitting lizard running at him.

**

 

Barton refocused and drew three speartip arrows. The creature was not much taller than him, but was ripped under its scales. Thick legs shook the pavement beneath them, and its arms were reeled back with claws bared. He took aim so that the top arrow would pierce through its open mouth and into the thrashing tongue. He loosed the arrows when it was still 15 feet away, but the beast didn’t stop. Two of the arrows glanced off of its armor, while the third disintegrated on contact with the acid slick tongue. Hawkeye barely had time to register this before it was attacking. He leaped up onto the parked car behind him and pulled his gun in one hand while swinging his bow at the lizard with the other. He shot it point blank in the face, but that only slowed it down. Hawkeye looked up and found a dangling fire escape ladder not ten feet to his right. He jumped for it, just as the wounded lizard snapped out its tongue. The acid grazed his left hip, and Barton thanked his adrenaline for the lack of pain. He pulled himself up out of reach just in time. He flipped his finger at the lizard while it swiped uselessly with its claws below. Barton was breathing heavily as he ran the narrow metal stairs to the top of the building. 

“You’d better have a damn good reason for radio silence, Coulson.” Barton heard Cap in the comm. From his new vantage point he could see Iron Man and Captain America as figures of blue and red on the ground below, flashing and thrashing at a couple of the creatures. 

“Gotcha!” Stark cheered as one of them took a blast in the middle and collapsed. “The belly is a weak point if you can wear the armor down. Bet we would have known that earlier if Agent was more helpful.” 

“Guys, I could use a little backup!” Romanoff called, sounding unusually panicked. “Electric shock makes them more powerful, and I can’t get a shot through the scales.” 

Barton couldn’t see her on the ground from where he was, so he took a running start and jumped to the next building. “Aim for the face; the helmet is weaker. It won’t stop them but it’s something.” Two buildings east and he was at an intersection. He saw her down the next street, shooting at two lizards from the top of a Jeep. “You’re in my sights ‘Tasha. On my count, go west off the Jeep; I’ve got explosives coming.” He aimed a specialized arrow at one of the lizards trying to crawl up the back of the car. “Three . . . Two . . . Now!” He released and watched her escape. The explosion was smaller this time, but since the lizards had been climbing towards it, they were down for the count. One of them had lost most of its head.

Hawkeye couldn't see a fire escape, but jumped to a balcony on the next building. He had to reach for the next ledge from there, but managed to make it to the ground on his feet. He found the Widow and they were headed towards the rest of the team when another lizard crawled out of the shadows. This one seemed different though; its armor covered its whole torso, and the tail spikes were tipped with red. It moved slowly, reminding Barton of the velociraptors he hunting in Jurassic Park. They stopped walking and were drawing their weapons when it saw them. It seemed to sniff the air before it dropped its jaw and let a long purple tongue uncoil from its mouth. It snapped its tongue threatening, and unlike the other creatures, it got down on all four legs. 

"Don't run, walk backwards." Romanoff said. Her words echoed in the comm as he obeyed. The creature started slow, but before they could blink it was charging. They turned and ran fast as they could and Barton veered off into an alley. The lizard was gaining ground when Hawkeye spotted a dumpster. He booked it for all he was worth and leaped over the edge, pulling the lid shut above him. What the hell Barton?!" Widow yelled on the comm. "It followed you!" 

"Where are you guys? Cap just beheaded another one. But we've got another coming close." Stark was all confidence, despite the situation. 

"I'm in a dumpster." Barton managed before the lizard slammed into the side. The resounding metallic echo made him want to lose his hearing aids. The lid remained closed, but he heard the sizzle of the creature's acid saliva on the metal. Soon enough there was a large hole in corner. The lizard's arm came through it and Barton scrambled back. He hadn't noticed the other hole behind him though and was immediately burned by the drool. He screamed from the pain and it echoed louder in the small space. The lizard found the lid then, and whipped its tongue in at his chest. His armor corroded just like everything else, and Barton watched in horror as his flesh singed and bubbled. It took him a moment to realize that the lizard had backed off. He heard the tell-tale sound of a Shield jet coming in before the world darkened around him.

**

 

Clint’s first thought was the same as it always was, “Oww.” He concentrated on where the pain was this time, but it seemed like his whole torso was aching. His senses came back and he heard the familiar voices of his bickering team and the humming white noise of the plane. He felt the sting of an IV in his arm and guessed that to be the reason he wasn’t screaming in pain anymore. He blinked his eyes open found himself lying, strapped to a gurney against the wall. He unbuckled the straps and sat up slowly. No headache this time, but his chest, back, and shoulders were stiff with bandages. He tried to ignore this and tuned into the post-mission argument.

“You said they’re not alien, where did they come from?” Stark was yelling. 

Coulson stood near the pilot deck looking like a stiff soldier taking abuse. “We don’t know for sure who-”

“But you have an idea.” Romanoff joined.

Coulson stood his ground, but played like he was giving in. “A team of specialistst created them to go against you.” A subtle shift in his face feigned disappointment, as though pouting that they’d won. Barton had seen that move on a hundred different agents before. Coulson knew more, and wasn’t letting on. “They’re bionic, regenerate quickly,”

“Arrows don’t pierce them.” Clint added mournfully, alerting the team to his cognizance. Coulson looked over at him with half-hidden surprise, but didn’t meet his eyes. His expression turned sad for a second before returning to his stoic stare. Barton soured at the obvious front, but didn’t add more. He inspected his burns beneath the bandage while his team continued.

It was Cap who spoke up then, saying what they were all thinking. “How can you keep this from us!? We could have saved a lot of trouble, a lot of lives, if you’d just told us what we were running into!”

“The information is classified until we’re sure of the threat-”

“I think we’re pretty damn sure now.” Bruce spat.

“We’re all burned and beaten, and half of their horde got away. What happens when they come back?” Natasha said.

“This attack wasn’t planned. The creatures seem to have escaped before they were meant to come after you. We think they were all intended to be stronger and faster like,” He paused and Clint looked up to see his pained expression. “Like the one that attacked Barton. We don’t know who’s controlling them exactly, or how they called them back, but we may have a lead on where they are. Hopefully we can trace them, and we’ll give you more intel before we infiltrate their holding.” Coulson sighed. “You won’t be part of that mission, I can tell you that. If they want the Avengers, the last thing we can do is give you to them.”

The plane landed at the tower before anyone could respond, and the team dispersed quickly, aching for showers and peace. Clint removed his IV and nearly ran to his room in attempt to escape the med staff. His burns were barely second degree, and while they hurt like a bitch, he didn’t want to be fussed over. His attempt was in vain though, because not two minutes after he’d stepped out of the bathroom in his stark tower suite, with wounds, better cleaned and rebandaged, did the man of the hour knock on his door. The fight had left him by then, and a bruise welling up on Phil’s face showed that Natasha had beat him to the punch anyway.

“Can I come in?” Phil looked defeated, and his director’s mask was broken and gone, along with his tie and jacket. 

Clint said nothing, but stepped aside to let him through. They made it to the couch before Clint broke down. “How can I trust you?” He said, his voice like gravel. “How do we know if your intel is true when you give us nothing at the start? How could you be concerned for me, and then leave out info that could have killed me?” His anger and fear burned low in his chest as the lump in his throat climbed higher.

Phil didn’t move, but closed his eyes. When he opened them, he met Clint’s gaze with a deep blue that knocked the wind out of Clint. Loki. He reeled back and a low voice crept in the back of his mind, “It’s not him you can’t trust, it’s yourself.” Phil’s hand on his shoulder shook him back to the present. 

“Clint? Are you alright? You should have stayed under surveillance. Jarvis?” He called.

Clint’s breath was ragged, “I’m fine, your eyes just- they’ve never been that blue before.” He pulled Phil into a tight hug, hissing a breath at the pressure on his chest, but still grateful that the pain grounded him. It had been months since he’d panicked at something so small.

After a moment, Phil shifted. “Can you trust that I have good reason for not telling you?” Phil whispered.

Clint pulled back, “The last time you had a secret, you were dead.”

“And I had good reason for laying low then too.” Phil held Clint’s hands in his; their warmth was a much needed comfort, but Clint struggled with what it meant to him. “If this is a problem,” Phil paused and looked down, “Do you want to stop this?”

“What?” Clint grabbed his arm, “No! I’ve already lost you once, Phil. Look, maybe trust is something we’ll work on, but this isn’t going to stop us.”

Phil breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t want to stop. Clint I endangered you, of course I regret that, but I-” He screwed up his face like it pained him to say it. “I can’t give you this until we’re certain. I need you to trust me on that.”

Clint was silent. He’d been on many missions with Phil, and trust was always easy between them. He had only ever withheld information when it would change agents’ actions, and never when it would endanger them. “Yes.” He breathed. “Just- I need to know why. What’s different this time? Why’s it so important?”

“I know I can’t control the Avengers. I can’t control you. But I need to keep you safe.” He was honest this time. Clint knew by the tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose you either. And obviously I couldn’t save you, this time. But you’ll thank me later for this, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Clint said, a hint of a smirk reaching his lips despite his seriousness. “Can we go get something to eat?”

“Well I’m sure traffic’s a standstill after all that, but we can raid the kitchen. First though,” Phil held Clint’s arm before he could stand up, and pressed a hard, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. They held each other, kissing and groping for comfort. “I’m so sorry.” Phil rasped when they broke apart. He had tears on his face, and Clint knew he meant it.

“I know.” He said simply.


	7. Screwed Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afternoon sex and coffee, followed by panic and revelation. (extended porn and feels edition) The chapter title is a pun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.

It had been a few days since Phil had gotten to wake up next to Clint. Sure, this wasn't an early morning sex and coffee deal, but two in the afternoon sex and coffee wasn't so bad. 

Clint was draped over him on the couch still snoring lightly. "Jarvis, is anyone looking for us yet?" He whispered, tilting head back as if Jarvis was in the ceiling. 

"Thor was asking after Mr Barton about an hour ago, wanting to engage him in a video game, but has since given up the effort. Your Agents have not made any attempts to contact you since this morning." Jarvis answers quietly.

It seemed like they'd have the afternoon to themselves then. Phil stroked Clint's hair, and the man stirred, nuzzling into his arm. His hearing aids were still on the nightstand in the bedroom, Phil remembered, and inwardly chuckled at himself for having whispered to Jarvis. Clint opened his eyes and rolled onto his back with his head in Phil's lap. Phil ruffled his hair and smiled softly. 

"Where are my ears?" Clint asked, getting to his feet.

"Bedroom" Phil signed.

Clint came back and put on a pot of coffee. Phil snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Clint leaned back into the embrace. "You're killing me Phil. Do you know that before all this my sex drive was nice and manageable? Now you hug me and I'm gettin hard."

"Mm, is that a problem?" Phil pointedly slides his hand lower, hovering at the waistband of Clint's jeans for permission.

"Not if you can stick around this time." Clint slipped a quiet jab at Phil for leaving him that morning to deal with a minor crisis at "the office." There was always a crisis of some sort over there. 

Phil nuzzled into Clint's neck and kissed his way up to his ear. He pinched the lobe in his teeth before licking the soft skin behind his ear. Clint inhaled sharply and reached back to pull Phil into a rough and sloppy kiss. He spun in Phil's arms and pushed him against the island behind him. Phil took to the aggression in kind by pulling him Clint closer, pressing their chests and groins together. He let Clint lead the kiss, only moving his lips and tongue at the guidance of Clint's. Obviously he needed the dominance, but hopefully not just to release their tension from that morning. 

Phil squeezed Clint's ass through his form fitting jeans, and his hardening cock twitched at the painful friction. Clint moaned and pulled their lips apart. He was panting, face red and pupils dilated, filling his irises. He stepped back, and Phil immediately followed closely, holding his forearm as they moved to the bedroom. 

They shed their clothes and fell into the bed together. Phil languidly draped himself over Clint and sucked on his lower lip. His skin warmed to Clint's touch. Clint's hands roamed over his back, hips, and midriff, pointedly staying above his waist. Phil held himself up on his elbows and knees, and kissed down Clint's neck. He sucked a hickey under his collarbone, and pinched his nipples when he squirmed. Phil licked around a nipple and then down, following the trail of dirty blond hair downward.

"Do we have lube?" Phil asked. He sat up and Clint followed.

Clint replied with a rough voice, "It's in the drawer. No condoms, but you know I'm clean." Phil grabbed the bottle, but hesitated before opening it. "I haven't seen your file though; is there something you need to tell me?" Clint filled the silence.

"No, I'm clean. I just realized how thick you are." He stared at the object in question. He wasn't longer than Phil was, but he had almost half an inch on him in girth. Ouch.

He saw Clint smirk in his peripheral. "Lube up bitch, I'm riding you." Clint sat up on his knees. Phil laughed and did as requested. He warned the lube in his hands before stroking himself with it. He sat back and straightened his legs so Clint could straddle him. He had to stop himself from beating off right then at the sight of Clint, hard and ready for him.

He warmed more lube in his hand and sat up to hold Clint chest to chest while stretching him with one finger, then another. Clint pushed back into his hand, clenching and unclenching, hot in more than temperature. Phil scissored his fingers and then gave a slight "come-here" motion before pulling out. Clint's breath hitched and he gripped Phil's shoulder.

Phil laid back and held Clint's hip steady over him with one hand, while guiding his cock under Clint. Clint slid down on him slow and he gasped as heat engulfed him. Clint let out a groan when he ran out of shaft. He rocked back and forth, obviously trying to hit the sweet spot. Phil's dick twitched inside him at Clint's voice.

Finally Clint shifted his knees and pulled up, ever so slightly before slamming down and falling forward on his forearms. His warm chest pressed against Phil's and their faces landed just inches apart. Phil panted and moaned as they really started thrusting. The hot pressure against his dick there and then released over and over as they slid together. His hands moved to Clint's ass and pulled him down harder with every thrust. He was nearly screaming from the pleasure with every breath, and every slick push and pull had him on the edge. 

"Clih" he breathed, "Clint oh!"

Clint nodded beside his head, "Yeah baby," Clint moaned in his ear. "You coming?"

Phil felt an arm come between their stomachs and then Clint was jerking himself while they pounded into each other. Phil groaned again, but couldn't speak. He nodded just before another thrust sent him over the edge in white hot bliss. Clint kept lifting and slamming over him as he spun out. Clint's muscles tightened around him, prolonging his orgasm as Clint's cock shot cum over their bellies. 

"Fuck, yeah!" Clint shuddered through his climax. He lifted off of Phil's soft dick and collapsed on his back to Phil's left. Phil slotted his knuckles between Clint's. They lay there, breathing in time with each other, for a few minutes. 

Clint rose slowly and limped to the bathroom to clean up. Phil felt like he couldn't move if he tried, but he watched Clint's sideways walk with a sympathy smirk. After a few minutes Clint still hadn't returned, so he stretched and went to the bathroom. Clint knelt on the floor, a dirty towel gripped unnecessarily tight in his left hand. 

"Hey," Phil sat beside him. "What's wrong?" He moved to put his hand on Clint's knee, but thought better of it. 

Clint looked up at him with tears in his eyes. "I don't know." He growled, and Phil knew from experience the self loathing that can come with anxiety.

"It's alright Clint, you don't need a reason." Phil grabbed a washcloth for himself off the counter and cleaned himself up. 

"I can't stop thinking that" Clint drew in a shaky breath. "that something will go wrong. That it was my fault you died, that we both have trust issues, that something has to give be-because we're both just too screwed up to keep this going. We're doing good for now, but we're always one misstep from heartbreak."

Tears fell from Clint's eyes and Phil pulled him into a hug. "No." He said, "You're wrong. It's not your fault, and we're both going to be okay. Clint we've been through a lot, and we've always been in the thick of it together. Being in a romantic relationship isn't even close to the hardest thing we've gotten through. We're still figuring things out, but isn't it good?" He pulled out of the hug and Clint nodded, still looking like a kicked puppy. "Yeah and it feels amazing for me. Every minute with you feels like home. Like walking in the door after a hard day of kicking ass, and laying on the couch with a cold drink and someone to cuddle. If it feels this good now, think of what's coming. We're not going towards heartbreak, we're going towards happiness." 

Clint nodded weakly, sighed, and looked up. "I need to take a walk."

They stood up and got dressed in the bedroom. Clint poured a thermos of coffee and left without a goodbye. Phil stared at the door; this was not how he thought sex and coffee would be.

**

Clint closed the door behind him and just kept walking. He needed air. He needed to think. He needed a different brain. He needed- he needed- he needed- 

He realized he was was breathing too fast, and had to focus on keeping calm. He walked to an elevator and went up, up, as high as he could. The roof. He walked out and suddenly remembered that it was late afternoon and he was wearing sweatpants and a Tshirt on top of a skyscraper. The chilled wind pulled him into solid ground. Looking out at the city, he thought about what had happened with a clear mind. 

He panicked because he was too happy. He had been thinking that he didn't deserve it. It doesn't matter if he deserved it. Happiness isn't deserved, it just is. And he had it. Phil made him happy. Like he had said, this felt like home. 

Clint sighed. He hoped Phil was right.

He heard footsteps behind him. Boots, but quiet. Obviously whoever it was knew how to sneak, but his shoes gave him away. He turned and leaned against the guardrail. It was Bucky. Clint cocked an eyebrow at him. 

It was weird seeing him in person, wearing street clothes and his hair cut short, when just over a month ago he'd been all over the news. He was happy for the guy. He had a lot to deal with, fighting Hydra out of his mind. Clint empathized with the feeling of losing control, but at least he hadn't lost his memories. Although some he wished he could forget. Barnes was doing alright though. Well enough to live with the Avengers, anyway. Not well enough to join the team yet.

Bucky gave a hint of a smile, but didn't say anything until he was standing at the edge with him. "So, you and Coulson?" He said.

"What?" Clint felt like he'd just been slapped with the guy's metal arm. How did he know? Who else knew? They hadn't talked about telling anybody. What if Phil didn't think it was a big deal and just let it slip? Was it a big deal?

"No one else knows." Barnes said, and Clint wondered if his panic was that obvious. "I think." He added. "Why do you hide it?"

Clint sputtered at the confrontation, "I- huh, I don't know. It's none of your business. And it's only been like a month (36 days, Clint counted.) so we're kind of, waiting to say anything, I guess. How the hell did you find out?" Clint was impressed that the guy had somehow been sneaky or observant enough to figure it out, but he would have to work at closing that loophole now. Wouldn't he? He had to talk to Phil.

"No fault on your part. I was exploring and stumbled across something I actually wouldn't mind forgetting. Your secret's safe. I couldn't explain this to Steve if I tried." Bucky shook his head and looked back over his shoulder like he'd heard something.

The rooftop, sleek, metal, artistic structure that it was, was empty but for them. Behind them, over the curve that went up to the point of the tower, was the sun, beginning to set. They sky glowed orange, and it gave Clint peace, despite the bustling city noise below.

Bucky cleared his throat, "Why Coulson? I man I never officially met him, but in the videos and pictures I've seen he looks like a stiff. What's he like?"

Clint laughed in spite of himself, "He's not a stiff. He's kind and thoughtful, gentle even with other Agents. He's been my friend for a long time, though if you'd asked me then I would have shrugged it off. He's brave and selfless; did you know he gave his life for us? Shield brought him back. And have you seen him in a suit? Gorgeous! It's no wonder he wears them all the time." Clint caught himself and stopped before he went too far. "Anyway, far from stiff. You should meet him. I don't know anyone who's met him and didn't like him."

"Huh. I uh, I remember saying the same stuff about Steve." Barnes looked at the floor.

"Do you remember much?" Clint asked, hoping he wasn't prying. He hadn't had many actual conversations with Bucky, even though they'd technically been living together for a week. 

Bucky looked at him, face blank, revealing nothing. "It comes and goes. I remember more about the war and fighting Hydra, but" his brow and mouth tensed slightly, like he was deciding whether or not to say something. "not one of Bucky's memories are without Steve." The emphasis on "Bucky" said a lot. He must have split his pre-Winter Soldier self from his current self when he started remembering. Christ, Clint couldn't imagine how hard that must be. 

"Wow." He said simply. "So you and Steve, huh?" Clint nudged Bucky in the ribs.

He'd meant it as a joke, but Bucky's smile showed no humor. "Yeah, I guess. Me and Steve." He pushed himself off the rail and walked back to the door inside without looking back.

"Huh." Clint followed after a few seconds. Warm inside, Clint went back to his suite. He thought about his building in Bed-Stuy. He wondered if Tony would let Lucky move in here. But he probably ought to stay living with his residents. He was their landlord after all. 

Would Phil live there with him? Phil had his own suite here in the tower, but spent most nights in Clint's. Clint wondered about Jarvis telling on them, but as long as Tony didn't ask, they'd be safe. If Phil moved in with Clint, it would be obvious. They would have to tell the others first. What if Phil wanted Clint to live in his apartment? He was closer to the Tower, but farther from Kate, Matt, and his tenants. He might even have to give up the building. No, he had to stay there. Phil could move in, or they would just live apart. Clint sighed, having made his decision, and went into his suite to talk to Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's appearance in this chapter corresponds with chapter 19 in "Who the Hell is Bucky?" There is an explanation for how he found out.


	8. The Big One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint "Is this real life?" Barton faces some tough shit as the Avengers and Company take on The Big One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.
> 
> This is a long one. The ending will be more satisfying if you've been reading the other work in this series [ Who the Hell is Bucky?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4906795/chapters/11255821)

“I didn’t tell anyone, Clint.” Phil ran a hand through his hair, visibly stressed. “We haven’t talked about that yet; Christ, what would they say?”

“Well, I doubt any of them are homophobes. Pretty sure Stark’s had his fair share of cock, despite what the tabloids say. Nat probably already suspects me, at least. Kate said she wouldn’t tell, but I bet if Nat asked her, she’d spill. You’re probably safe though. I had you pegged straight as an arrow during your eight year crush.”

Phil smiled at the pun. “Straight as your recurve, more like. How did Barnes find out, anyway?”

“He didn’t really say. Just that he saw something.” Clint said. He plopped down on the couch. Phil followed suit and leaned on Clint. The warm weight of his head on Clint’s shoulder was comforting. Clint put his arm around him.

“Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” Phil whispered, quiet and gentle. It made Clint feel like a stray puppy that Phil wanted to take home.

“I panicked. It was too good and I got scared. You were right though.” Clint lifted Phil’s chin to a small kiss. “I was thinking though, if you keep sleeping here, they’re gonna notice. Plus, it’s been a nice few days, but I have to go back to my building.”

“God knows what kind of trouble your tenants could be in without Hawkguy living there.” Phil teased. Clint took it seriously. Those people went through hell with the Tracksuits.

“Kate’s getting sick of having to go in and out taking care of Lucky. I would love to live here, but I don’t know if Stark would let Lucky move in, and I don’t want to sell the building. Those people need protection. Most of them are living rent-free right now. I couldn’t do that to them. 

“Anyway, what I’m getting at is, uh . . . well it’s just that you live kind of far . . . but I have to stay in Bed-Stuy . . .” Clint sighed. He was being childish. “Look, I know it’s only been a month, but do you want to move in with me?”

Phil didn’t move from Clint’s embrace, but Clint could feel him tense. “Clint, our jobs were just ripped from beneath our feet by a sleeper terrorist group from the ‘40s. Most of our colleagues were either traitors or were killed. I’ve had to rebuild everything we used to be. I finally started to feel like a normal human again, and this relationship is the best part of everything in my world. Of course I want to live with you, but I’m not ready. I need time to adjust. This is new and amazing, and we’ll get there. I promise we will, in our own time."

**

Clint was just turning onto his street, walking home from the joint where he’d met Katie for breakfast when a voice in his ear said “Avengers Assemble!” A black sport sedan pulled up to the curb on his left and the front window rolled down. The driver was a bottle blonde woman with dark sunglasses that hid her eyes.

“Are you ‘Robin Hood’? Mr. Stark sent me to get you.” The driver asked. They sped off before Clint could even finish closing the door. Definitely one of Stark’s drivers. In seconds Clint got a call from Phil.

“What’s goin on?” He answered the phone in his hearing aid.

Phil’s voice was strained and hushed, like he was hiding. “You’ll be briefed with the others when you get here. You got the car?”

“Yeah, Are you-” Clint began, but was cut off.

“Clint this is very important. For this mission, for the brief even, we need to put our relationship aside. Remember how we talked about being compromised in the field? This is a big one, and I’m fighting alongside you. Hill is running this one, and we need all hands on deck, so I’m in the field. I need to know that you’re okay with this, Clint.”

Clint’s heart pounded and he could almost feel the adrenaline in his veins. “I just- I don’t know.” The car lurched and the driver apologized as she sped around the traffic to get to the tower. “What the hell kind of mission is this, that needs you in the field?”

“A big one. Please Babe, we can do this.”

Clint struggled, he knew Phil was right, but now that it really mattered, he wasn't sure he could do it.“Look, you know I’ll have your back, but it’s hard to put everything aside. Last time-”

“Last time was two years ago! And we’ve both been in the field since then, just not together. Clint we’ll be okay. Tell me you’ll be okay with this.” His tone turned pleading.

Clint swallowed his concern, fear, anxiety, and finally, his love. He acknowledged it with a quiet nod in his mind, for he had always loved Phil on some level. “Okay. Okay, we can do it.” Despite the confidence in his voice, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying.

The car turned into the basement garage under the tower, and Clint jumped out and bolted for the elevator. Jarvis took him to the right floor without prompting.

The doors opened, and Clint walked into a war zone. Everyone was there, and they were all arguing and shouting at each other about 'who knew what' and 'how could they' and Clint couldn’t really understand any of them. They all packed into the kitchen on the common floor. The Avengers were comfortable here in their home territory, and the Shield agents were intruding with their rules, betrayal, and a looming mission. Everyone gathered in front of the long counter island and around the dining table. 

Clint seemed to be the last of the team to arrive. Even Thor, who was notorious for tardiness, stood stoic in the rowdy group. 

Hill and Coulson seemed to be taking most of the abuse, but four other agents, suited in black Shield armor stood nearby. Clint noted that each had a Glock on a thigh holster, and their own specialty weapons. One of the women had two metal batons strapped to her back. Another, a short, jittery, russet-skinned man had some kind of homemade range weapon. These must be the few highly skilled agents left after Shield’s downfall. Clint knew Coulson’s usual gang, so these must be Hill’s.

Clint stepped in and took up an empty spot, leaning on the back of a chair.

“Barton, what took you so long?” Natasha pulled him into the group and all eyes turned to Clint.

“Nevermind that, enough bickering. The important thing is that we can give you answers now that we’re all here.” Hill commanded the room without excess volume, demanding attention with her tone. “This is the team, or what’s left of the team that took out the creatures you fought in the city last week.” Hill introduced the Agents. “Butler,” She indicated the tan, blonde woman with the batons, “Isaacs,” she pointed to the twitchy guy with the homemade gun, “Eliot,” a tall asian man with the physique of a body builder, “and Rivera,” a woman with brown skin and dark hair, who had straps on her vest which held an assortment of small glass vials filled with colored liquids, “are all specialists who have proven their allegiance and teamwork skills.”

The agents looked nervous. Clint wondered what they’d heard about the Avengers.

“The reason we couldn’t tell you lot who we were up against is the same reason we sent our team to take them out. The creatures and their master are Hydra.”

The room exploded with shouts and accusations.

“Where the fuck do you get off, lying to us about those beasts?” Stark stood and pointed at Coulson. “You said you had no idea where they came from.”

“It had to be something like this.” Falcon crossed his arms. “You wouldn’t have called all of us if it wasn’t big.”

Romanoff glared daggers at Coulson; Banner started pacing; Rogers just looked hurt.

“I don’t understand why this was kept quiet.” Thor stepped forward. “Hydra is currently our biggest threat; is it not?”

Clint’s blood boiled knowing that the traitor bastards would move to take out the Avengers, but he didn’t protest with the others. He understood now, and despite his anger at the situation, he trusted Shield. “If they told us who was leading them then, we would have charged in unprepared and been torn to pieces.” He said.

“That was our thinking too, Barton.” Hill nodded. “This is the largest organization we’ve seen since the breakup of Shield just over a month ago. We’ve taken out their guard dogs, so they’re compromised now, but don’t expect this to be easy. Their leader is one of the top scientists that we had- that Hydra has. Morgan Clark is a bio-engineer, now going by “The Creator.” He, along with a team of other Shield traitors, engineered those lizards to target the Avengers. We lost Agent Card in the fray, and Agents Milton and Kipling are hospitalized and in bad shape. Unfortunately the root of the group wasn’t in the lab we infiltrated, so despite our losses, we’re not finished.” 

Hill and the other agents bowed their heads at the mention of Card. Clint had been there more than once; losing a teammate is difficult in the best of times, but when your mission isn’t finished, your grief is put on hold.

“Let’s go then.” Said a voice from across the room. Barnes stood at the end of the long table, dressed in a modified version of his original battle suit. Black armored pants, bulletproof vest, navy blue leather shirt with one long sleeve and the other cut off, and only like five different guns and knives (that Clint could see) strapped on. Like everyone except Clint, he was battle ready.

Hill stared at Bucky like she wasn't sure what he was. "We have to work out a plan first, Barnes. They may well have an army behind them, and they know we're coming."

"Tell us what you've got then, Boss." Stark widened his stance and crossed his arms, doing his best to simmer down.

"Well, we've got a team of actual superheroes, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Captain America, Hawkeye, Hulk, Winter Soldier, and Falcon," she gestured to each person, introducing them to the Shield agents. "Five highly trained agents, and a super intelligent computer and communications system to guide us, along with yours truly running the op. I don't want to sound too optimistic, but I think we've got pretty good chances of taking those bitches down."

"Wait five? Director Coulson's running with us?" One of the agents spoke up for the first time; it was the young jittery guy, and he looked wildly between Hill and Coulson.

"I am. We decided that it's best to split into three teams: Rushers, Destroyers, and Clean up. The Rush team is Barton, Captain Rogers, Romanoff, Isaacs, and Butler, who will lead into the base, clear out as many guards as possible, take out surveillance, and open the main gates. Jarvis, if you would?" At Coulson's request, a holographic map of an enormous warehouse opened up over the table. It seemed to be not far outside the city, near the Hudson. The map highlighted a closed aircraft gate. How did they not know about this warehouse before? It was huge! "Stark, Banner, you're the destruction team. Once the gates are open, you blast and smash anything that doesn't look useful to you or Shield. Stark, we're counting on you to make sure that anything good in their armory stays out of their hands, whether it makes it into ours or not." 

"My pleasure. The Big Guy and I are gonna have some fun." He waggled his eyebrows at Bruce, who gave a nervous smile. 

"Then comes the Cleanup team, with Thor, Falcon, Barnes, Eliot, Rivera, and myself. We move in deep, locate Clark, and take him out alive if possible. The Rush team will join us when everything is clear, so we can clean up the lot." Coulson crossed his arms over his chest in his self-defense stance and took a breath. "This isn't set in stone, so if you have any objections to your positions, now's the time to speak up."

Eliot glanced around, "Uh, not to point out the elephant in the room, but wasn't the Winter Soldier fighting against us last month? Are we sure he's ready?" He meant, are we sure he's not gonna turn on us and kill everyone, Clint thought. Judging by the faces of everyone else, they thought so too. Clint couldn't tell if anyone agreed with the guy, but they all turned to stare at Barnes.

“I'm right here, you dick." Bucky growled, "And I've had 70 years worth of training; I'm always mission ready."

Steve put a hand on his shoulder. "Natasha and I have been working with him, and he has no desire to return to Hydra, right Buck?"

"Fuck Hydra. They took everything from me. Let's take everything from them."

"Well said, Barnes." Said Coulson.

Hill nodded, "Let's scope out what we can for now. Mission at 1600 hours."

**

Barton stood on a thick branch of an oak tree, leaning on an upper branch as he picked off cameras and outposts with his bow. The base was a huge concrete structure, single story, but tall for the garage that faced the single lane dirt road access. The whole two acre property was under the cover of trees. It's a wonder this place wasn't claimed by some museum or something, but judging by the building style, it's been under Hydra ownership for at least 40 years. 

"Eyes closed. Widow and Butler, move in." Barton gave the signal through the comm link. He half climbed, half jumped down from the tree and joined Rogers and Isaacs on the ground. They heard some distant gunshots, but after a few minutes, Butler's voice was in Hawkeye's ear.

"All clear boys; come join the party." She sounded winded, but she wasn't whispering so they must have gotten to a safe point. "There's a backdoor unlocked at the building's ten. Twenty lock-safe wedge. Go dog go, ninja pancakes." 

Barton knew the code and they ran quickly and silently twenty paces through the door and stopped at the corner. They stealth walked against a wall and found Widow and Butler waiting for them. Weapons drawn, they rounded the next corner to find four agents waiting for them. Butler, Widow, and Cap jumped into the fray while Barton and Isaacs covered them from behind. Barton was disappointed to find that Isaacs had drawn his Glock and left his homemade gun slung on his back. 

Butler whacked one of the agents on the knees with a baton, and subsequently set his clothes on fire, as a gas fueled flame sprang from the metal. Hawkeye shot him down with a Night Night arrow so he would stop screaming. Butler hit him again, and the fire went out in a puff of extinguisher. 

Rogers and Butler led the way as they continued down the next hall. The brick wall and solid concrete floor did nothing to muffle their steps. They could also hear two more Hydra coming, though. Barton rounded a corner to take cover, and the others followed suit as the bullets flew. 

Romanoff waited until the firing stopped for a moment and then moved in with Barton at her side. They bounced the walls and ripped the pistols from the agents' hands as they went. It was only after the Hydra were on the ground that they realized the others weren't following. They backtracked and found Cap leaning on a wall holding a wound under his left arm. He was bleeding heavily from a gunshot.

"I'll be fine in a minute." Rogers grit out through the pain. "Advanced healing, remember? Seriously just go. I'll catch up."

"Rogers," Romanoff started.

"I'll stay with him, cover him if more come this way." Said Isaacs. 

Cap was right though. His bleeding was already slowing, and as they moved on Barton heard the ping of the bullet hitting the floor. 

They reached the garage with the main gate without spotting more agents. Barton had to wonder if they were hiding out somewhere. Or maybe there were less Hydra than they'd thought. 

The garage, if he could even call it that as it was so big, was taken up mostly by two quinjets. There were a few cars, including formerly Shield Escalades. Hawkeye lead the way to one of those, and looked out for agents. There was an upper level with a control room for the gates, and probably surveillance, that had large glass windows. Barton could see through the glass five agents, all armed with automatic rifles. Four stood guard, looking out over the garage, and the fifth sat at the controls, watching something. 

Widow gave a signal and shoulder-rolled out, firing at the glass, while Hawkeye and Butler snuck off to the stairs. Barton fired a small explosive arrow at the door to the room. Butler split off and went up the stairs then, while Barton went around, checking for more agents who might be hiding. He spotted one be find a car and took her out with another Night-Night arrow. 

As he rounded the car, he saw Cap and Isaacs moving in. Isaacs immediately took the stairs and fired his custom gun into the control room. Barton watched as four missiles, each only a few inches long, fired in and brought down the agent with whom Butler was struggling. Clint suppressed a “Whoop!” That would have given away his position. He snuck back around to join Cap by the door. Butler must have found the code for the gates because with a metallic groan and a loud motor humming, the main doors lifted.

Cap lead the way to the rendezvous point, and as they jogged away from the garage, they heard the familiar roar of the Hulk.

“Gates open, D team is in. We're headed your way.” Widow announced in the comm. 

“We found an in. We're waiting on you; we're going in together.” Coulson returned.

Barton tried not to be bothered by how professional he sounded. Then he remembered that Coulson was addressing the whole team. They rounded a corner and saw the Cleanup team at the end of the hall. 

“Alright guys, this is the big one.” Hill said in Barton’s ear. He met Coulson's eyes as the teams met. Coulson gave a slight nod, but betrayed nothing on his face. 

“Hey,” Barton breathed. A returned greeting, nothing more. He wondered if his worry showed. He couldn’t keep himself from thinking about Phil with Loki’s scepter sticking out of his chest. He steadied himself with a breath, pushed down his concerns, and steeled himself for what was coming.

“Okay, there's a code to this door, and Jarvis has been working on it since we got in.” said Hill. 

Barton turned to look, but it looked to him like just a wall. He looked closer though, as Coulson pushed at certain spots on a brick, and saw that the way the grey bricks lined up with each other was more even here than anywhere else. With the code input, the wall swung inward, apparently not brick at all. A staircase led down to a dark basement. A blue light flashed on the wall inside.

“Keep formation. We don't know how many are down there.” Hill warned as Coulson led the way with Cap and Isaacs close behind. Hawkeye took the tail of the group, bow raised defensively. 

They started the descent, but not even halfway down the stone steps they were met with gunfire. Barton had the advantage, and shot a net arrow, followed by a few fireball arrows in quick succession over the group’s heads at the Hydra. The gunfire stopped, but was replaced by screams until Butler stepped forward and extinguished them with a snap of her batons. She held back the three hydra agents, now singed and scared, while the rest moved on. Barton didn't notice until they hit the landing that Eliot had been shot in the leg.

The stairway opened up into a circular room with a balcony as a second level going all the way around. The room was obviously meant to be a bunker, with a few weapons mounted on the walls, boxes of what Barton could guess we're food rations, and nothing but a few stainless steel tables in the center of the room, around which more agents were taking up arms. An iron staircase on the other end of the room led up to the balcony, and at the top, Barton saw the man behind everything, Morgan Clark, the Creator.

Clark was decidedly not the super villain type. He had an orange spray tan, and a ridiculously poofy grey-brown beard that reminded Barton of an old farmer. He also held a grenade launcher.

“Grenade!” Hawkeye shouted, and reflexively dove for cover at the sound of the launcher firing. The explosion rang in his ears. After a moment, he looked up and saw everyone on the ground except Isaacs, who stood with his rocket gun held high. He had been quick enough to shoot the grenade before it hit the ground, probably saving everyone a lot of pain and maybe even their lives.

Smoke obscured the top half of the room, but Barton could still see Rogers, Romanoff, and Coulson move in and disarm the four remaining agents in the rubble underneath where the grenade had blown. The Creator had lost his army, and now had to face Shield and the Avengers alone. 

The smoke cleared to reveal Clark descending the stairs with his hands raised in defense of all the weapons pointed at him. 

“Do you have any idea how long we've been waiting for you?” The Creator’s voice was gravely, and told of a decades long cigarette addiction. “Not just since we blossomed from the cocoon of Shield, but since before you half-wits were walking. Hydra has been testing the waters of making the world a better place, dipping its feet into Shield and emerging as a new, stronger force, ready to take out everyone who stands in the way of our perfect world. And you, we've been waiting for you, Avengers and Company, to be our first test, our first preemptive strike on the world’s lesser peoples. We began, as you know, with Director Fury, and intended on taking out the rest with Project: Insight. However, with that setback, we've had to change some plans. Now though, you've come right to us. Thank you, Avengers, for making our jobs so much easier.” 

“Doesn't really look like a victory to us. We took out all your guys.” Falcon retorted, but just as he said it, more agents entered from hidden doors on the balcony. Widow, Cap, Isaacs, Thor, and Rivera turned their weapons accordingly. There were now five Hydra surrounding them from above with the threat of machine gun fire. Hawkeye itched to fire an arrow at Clark, but held back, waiting for orders. Hill however, was silent, or more likely talking privately to Coulson.

Suddenly, a huge explosion from upstairs shook the walls, followed by a distant, joyful “Woo!” from Iron Man.

“Is that the Hulk I hear?” Clark smiled. “You liked my lizards; they were human you know, or at least, they had mostly human DNA, human consciousness. With the pure power of the Hulk, just imagine the possibilities! Yes, I'd like to get my hands on him.”

“I bet you'd like to get your hands on me first!” The Winter Soldier appeared from behind the Creator. He must have snuck up and around while the Creator had everyone's attention.

Clark turned around, and just as the recognition spread over his face, the Soldier jammed a knife into his stomach and ripped him open.

In a moment everything was chaos. There were gunshots on all sides, but the steel tables provided decent cover for the Avengers. Hawkeye got a few shots in, and in a minute, everything was quiet.

Barton waited a few seconds before standing to look around. All five Hydra agents were down and out. Nat was clutching her arm, and Falcon, Rivera, and Thor all seem to have non-fatal bullet grazes. The Creator was dead on the ground, with the Winter Soldier still standing over him, knife in hand.

“Bucky!” Cap bounded up the stairs and grabbed Barnes by the shoulders. “What the hell was that?! We could have used him! The plan was to take him alive!”

The Soldier shrugged Rogers off. “I had to.” His voice was even. He wasn't even defensive. “He took my memories.”

“What do you mean? He wasn't one of the handlers, was he?” The anger had left Rogers’ voice, and was left with concern.

Barnes looked Rogers in the eye. Barton could see pain and pleading written in the curve of his mouth and his wide eyes, but there was no trace of guilt. His voice started higher that usual, and turned into a snarl by the end. “He helped design the machine that wiped my memory. The original from the 40s wasn't working right, and he made it better. Things started coming back to me, like now, and he took it all away. He made me into the Winter Soldier. He created me, so I destroyed him.”

**

Back at the tower, Clint sat next to Nat on a patient table in medical. Just about everyone was there, either being patched up, or waiting with someone who was. Nat needed stitches in her left forearm, where she'd been struck by debris from the grenade. 

Clint smiled at her, “Feels pretty good, though, doesn't it?” 

“Says the one who's not even scratched to the girl currently getting stitches.” She turned her head as the needle pierced her skin. After everything she'd been through, she was still squeamish with needles, Clint thought, but kept it to himself.

“I was scratched plenty. Anyway that's not what I meant. Us, Avengering again, taking out bad guys. It feels good. I feel like a real superhero again.”

“We're not super. But I guess you're right. That is, assuming taking out Clark actually makes a difference for the world. Hydra's still out there. This is just the beginning.”

“Thanks Nat, I can always count on you for a sad reality check.” Clint hopped off the table as the doctor taped a bandage over the stitches. He tried to look bored while glancing around the room for Phil. Hill must have pulled him away though, because Coulson was the only Avenger not in the room.

When they started for the stairs, Tony whistled to get everyone's attention. “Alright heroes, it's not over yet! Pizza’s on its way, so finish up and I'll see your sorry faces upstairs! Post-mission dinner is officially a tradition! And yes, it’s mandatory.”


	9. Total Curveball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-mission, Steve has a big mouth, Tony doesn't know when to quit, and Clint and Phil have no idea what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.

As Clint followed Nat and the others upstairs, he was suddenly hit with a wave of fatigue. His adrenaline must have bottomed out. They moved into the common floor and gathered around the table again. Clint took a seat at the table, with Nat on his left. 

The team crowded in, talking, laughing, and embellishing their recounts of the mission’s events. Clint was barely listening to Natasha’s explanation of her wound as he tried to inconspicuously search the room for Phil.

“-and then a giant frog came and stabbed me in the side.”

Clint turned to see Nat smirking at him, eyebrow raised in question. Rivera, who had been listening to Natasha’s story, snickered.

“What? I was listening.” Clint tried, but Nat rolled her eyes. 

She waited until Rivera got up to get food, then leaned in and said under her breath, “Coulson’s not back yet, Cupid. He’s got to debrief from our debrief with Hill. Plus he needs stitches for the gaping hole in your relationship cover-up.”

Clint froze. He felt like she’d gut-punched him. No, she’s gut-punched him before; this was worse. He breathed through it. It wouldn't do to flip out here. “First Bucky, now you? What’s the gaping hole?” He whined in a whisper.

If she hadn’t already known about Bucky, she didn't show it. “Barton we’re trained spies for god’s sake. You really think you can hide something like this? I've known about your relationship for years. What I don't get is why you stopped being so subtle.”

“Hold on, you're dating Coulson?” Steve blurted out from across the table. Clint had been sure they were being quiet enough. Curse Steve’s super ears. And his big fucking mouth. Clint glared daggers at him, but as the room fell silent, his face burned. Everyone stared at him, and he was sure Stark was about to make some wise-ass comment when the elevator dinged, and Phil Coulson walked in.

“Agent, is that right? Are you putting your arrow in Barton’s quiver?” Stark broke the silence. Clint wished he hadn't.

Phil stared at Clint with hurt in his eyes, and he seemed unable to move. Phil thought Clint told them. “Clint,” His voice sounded choked. He cleared his throat.

Clint stood up and saved him, hopefully saving himself, too. “We're not just sleeping together. We're dating. Phil and I are, well uh, he's my boyfriend.” _Graceful, Barton._ Clint mentally banged his head against a wall. 

He walked around the table and held his hand out to Phil. He did his best to look apologetic. Phil cautiously stepped forward and took his hand. They could feel the whole room watching them.

“Congratulations.” Sam was the first to speak.

“Yeah, congrats.” A few others echoed. 

Some of the tension left them, and the group returned to their food and conversation.

“What the hell was that?” Phil hissed in Clint's ear as they walked to the kitchen. Clint's palm was sweaty, but Phil clutched his hand like a lifeline. Clint had never seen him so nervous. 

“Nat whispered that she knew, and Steve has bat ears and a loud mouth.” Clint gave Steve another glare, but Steve was laughing and grabbing at Bucky, who looked happier than Clint had ever seen him, so it lost its intended effect.

“Well that takes coming out off our to-do list, at least.” Phil smiled weakly, but it was clear that the sudden reveal bothered him. They grabbed some pizza and turned back to the room.

They were walking to a couch when Stark came up behind and between them, clapped them both on their backs and separating their hands.

“So, you’re finally out of the dusty proverbial closet. We were wondering how long it would take you. Romanoff and I had a bet, actually. You cost me a grand back when we thought Agent here was down for the count. I thought for sure you’d be making a reveal at the wake, Clint.”

“What?” Clint balked. What the hell was he talking about? They thought he and Phil were a couple before the Avengers?

“That was two years ago, Stark.” Phil lowered his brow.

“What’s that?” Stark stepped back and looked at Phil like he’d just spoken gibberish.

“We’ve been together for like six weeks.” Clint added.

“Oh,” Tony’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! Really?”

Phil squinted at him, “How long did you think…?”

“Romanoff said, what, eight years? Like since you met. I thought it was strange cause I would have sworn you and she had a thing going, but-”

“Oh my god.” Clint needed to sit down. He ran a hand through his hair, and Phil caught his elbow to steady him but didn’t look much better for the surprise.

“Well this is awkward. But hey, congrats on uh, realizing the whole uh, yeah.” Tony backed away, and Clint turned to Phil.

“Can you believe them?” Clint asked incredulously.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think. I wasn’t ready to tell them at all, but that they already knew… and before we did… I need I drink.”

“Ditto.” Clint tried to mingle while Phil went to the bar.

Rivera appeared at his side not long after, leaning against the back of a chair. “Hey, nice shooting today, Hawkeye.”

“Oh, thanks. Nice uh,” Clint racked his brain, but couldn’t remember seeing her much in the melee earlier. “What do you call it with those little bottles?”

“Ha, they’re kind of like potions, I guess. They’re like molotov cocktails, only instead of fire they make smoke, explosions, itching powder, corrosive, they all do different things.”

“Wow, that’s cool. So, first time with the Avengers; what do you think?” Clint set down his empty plate and crossed his arms. He was pleasantly surprised to talk to someone who wouldn’t make a fuss about his forced announcement.

“Fighting, it wasn’t much different from shield mission. Except Thor. He’s pretty uh, well.” She nodded toward the god, who was doing some kind of party trick with his hammer and a couple of beer bottles.

Clint nodded, “Yeah, well he is an alien god after all.”

“But here, post-mission, you guys are somewhere between crazy and oddly human. Do you always make relationship announcements at parties? I mean that was a total curveball, but it was sweet.

Phil came back then with two drinks. Clint took his and was going to say something to Rivera, but she had moved on to talk to Sam. He drank and hoped that it would loosen his nerves. 

“Clint I don’t know about this.” Phil emptied his glass quickly and frowned at it. “Stark just asked me how long I’ve known I’m gay… I’m not even gay. I’m- well I don’t know what I am. Pansexual, probably, but do I have to tell people that now? It’s none of their damn business.”

“Babe, it’s not gonna be a big deal. They’re talking about it now because it’s new, and they can avoid talking about the mission, but it’ll die down. At least they don’t hate us.”

Stark called their attention then, “Alright Avengers! I would like to congratulate us on a fantastic mission tonight. We cut off one of hydra’s heads, and I’ve yet to see any more taking its place.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Sam shouted.

“Anyway, to Shield and the Avengers!” He lifted his glass to many cheers. Clint could see he wasn’t done though, and groaned. Before people even finished drinking to the toast, Tony started again, clinking his glass with a knife that he got from god knows whom. “And before we resume our party, to our new fabulous couple, Clint Barton and uh, _Phil_ Coulson, out of the closet at last! They’ve been together for six weeks, so congrats to them! Hey lover boys, how ‘bout a kiss?”

Tony was drunk. Sure he wasn’t his infamous Stark-level plastered, but he had had a few, and was obviously feeling them, judging by his voice and his cheer, so Clint tried to forgive him. But his whole team, his friends, were behind this, and he was not even close to being drunk enough, and Phil seemed scared. Phil never showed when he was scared, so Clint was on edge and about the furthest he could be from feeling romantic. Especially PDA level romantic. He knew it was the only way to shut them up though. his friends (traitors) began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and Clint was reminded of weddings, and he damn near pissed himself as he made eye contact with Phil over that thought. Phil gulped and gave a slight nod. Clint closed his eyes, and as their lips met, he pulled out his hearing aids. It felt like privacy. The silence was, for once, blissful as his lips brushed Phil’s, gentle and comforting.

Phil, of course, could still hear the party. When they pulled apart, Clint turned and saw Steve say something to Phil. Clint could still only glare. Phil nodded beside him and gave Clint’s arm a squeeze. They stayed for a few more minutes to be polite. When Phil signed “bed, my floor” Clint was quick to follow. He felt the cheers vibrating the room, and he saw a few, Steve among them, whistle and catcall as they got in the elevator together.

While the removal of his hearing aids was a pretty clear sign that Clint didn’t want to talk about what happened, Phil was stressing pretty badly by the time they reached his floor. The man had Clint’s hand in a death-grip and was looking pale. 

“I can not ‘be out’” Phil signed as they went to the bedroom suite. “I can not … D-E-A-L with all of that.” Clint could show him the sign for “deal,” but this wasn’t the time. He sat on the bed to strip, feeling very un-sexy.

“I know, difficult… shower?” Clint signed in return.

“Together.” Phil sighed as he signed it, so it was apparent that Phil wasn’t feeling sexy either. Showering together for comfort was something they’d started doing in the mornings, particularly after one of them had woken up from a nightmare.

Clint touched his arm as the water ran. “We go through together.”

Phil hesitated to respond. Clint knew cold feet when he saw them. Clint had an honorary Master’s Degree in cold feet. They stepped into the stone-tiled shower. Under the spray of hot water, Clint kissed Phil and warmed Phil’s feet in the only way he knew. He hoped it would be enough.


	10. Deal with this Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wakes up ready to confront the issues of the past week, and carefully drags Phil into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [ efficaceous ](archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous) as of 29 Oct. 2015.
> 
> Sorry again for the wait. It's been a busy month. Probably best to expect a monthly posting from here on out. Happy New Year!

Clint rolled over and nestled himself against Phil’s back, trying to get comfortable again, but it was too late. He heard Lucky’s ID tag jingle as the dog lifted his head from the floor next to the bed. Clint lay very still, hoping that Lucky would think he was still asleep. Phil just had to notice the position shift though, and turn to face Clint with a bleary-eyed smile.

Lucky jumped up onto the bed and stepped over Clint to lick his face. 

“Eugh! Lucky quit it!” Clint laughed “You lick your ass with that tongue!” He pushed Lucky away and wiped the dog slobber off his face with his sleeve. Phil laughed at him, as he had managed to avoid the morning tongue assault.

“I said I wasn’t ready move here, but I love waking up with you.” Phil sat up and stretched, signing with clumsy morning fingers. 

“With Lucky?” Clint signed before reaching to pet the dog, who now lay on the foot of the bed.

“Especially with Lucky.” Phil smiled, and Lucky wagged his tail at him. Clint looked at Phil, with his mess of thinning hair and Captain America sleep shirt, and marveled at how this could possibly be his life. He touched Phil’s arm and gave him a soft, affectionate kiss. Phil looked sad when they parted. 

“Something wrong?” Clint asked out loud.

Phil looked up, as though he’d been miles away. “Nope.” He smiled and kissed Clint again, more chaste than the first, before getting up and walking to the bathroom.

Clint had almost forgotten that moment by the time they were sitting on the couch eating toaster waffles and drinking their second cups of coffee. He had just made a joke about Tony Stark’s suit, but Phil didn’t respond. He saw again the melancholy thoughtful frown cross Phil’s features. This had been happening throughout the week since they were outed at the party. Clint knew he was struggling with something, but couldn’t get him to open up. “Phil.”

“Huh? Sorry I was . . .” Phil trailed off with a shrug.

“You’re still thinking about coming out to them, aren’t you?” Clint nudged Phil’s thigh with his socked foot.

Phil looked apologetic, but Clint didn’t understand why. “The younger agents are looking at me differently. I think Eliot told some people. He’s such a gossip.” Clint would have thought Phil was just exasperated if it weren’t for the sigh and the pained expression that followed. 

“Are you like, ashamed of dating me or something?” Clint regretted asking it as soon as it left his lips.

“Of course not! Clint I lo-, I am not ashamed of you.” Phil stood up and took their plates to the sink. 

“No, I know, but what is it then? You act like it’s the worst thing that they found out that we’re together. And yeah, it’s upsetting that we didn’t get to tell them ourselves, and it’s totally weird that they thought we were together a long time ago, but it’s good that they know, right? We don’t have to hide, right?” Clint followed him and leaned on the kitchen bar.

“Clint I don’t-” Phil dropped the plate he was washing into the sink and stepped back, gripping the edge of the counter. “I am not ashamed of you. I just wish-, I just wish we didn’t have to deal with this stuff, you know? I mean other couples, they get this, like, trial period, when people know that they’re dating, but it’s not a big deal yet, and they don’t have to worry about whether or not people will change the way they see them, or stereotype them as something they’re not, or act like they give a damn when they don’t. But we don’t get that period. We have everyone throwing themselves at us and acting like we got married or something, and they think about us like we’re not the same anymore, like coming out as bi or gay or pan or whatever means that we’re suddenly just like that gay actor they saw on TV, or that we’re no longer as good at our jobs as we were last week when they didn’t know. And I’m not saying that I wish I weren’t gay or that I wish I didn’t fall in love with you, but I just wish it wasn’t such a big deal. It’s too much to handle on top of every other shitty situation that’s been thrown at us the last few months.” Phil finished with a sigh that shook his whole body, and Clint pulled him into a hug.

Clint didn’t know what to say, except the things he often wanted to hear. “We’ll be okay. It sucks, but we’ll get through it. We have good friends, and we don’t have to do it alone. I’ve got you.” He rubbed circles into Phil’s back and pressed a kiss into his temple. “Did you say you’re in love with me?”

Phil pulled back just enough to look at him, but Clint couldn’t read his expression. “Yeah. Too soon? I mean I’m not taking it back, but-”

“Me too.” Clint silenced him. 

Phil relaxed in Clint’s arms and he lay his head on Clint’s shoulder. Clint held him and tried not to think about the gravity of what they’d just done. Phil distracted him easily with soft kisses up his neck. Clint hummed and moved his hands to Phil’s hips. He shivered when Phil tugged his ear lob with his teeth. He found Phil’s mouth and sucked on his lower lip. Phil tensed in Clint’s arms and pressed closer. Clint felt Phil hard against him. He shifted and pulled out of the kiss with a wet pop. 

“Upstairs?” Phil breathed. Clint nodded and followed Phil, enjoying the view from behind. 

Clint pulled off his shirt and pants and fell into bed. Phil followed suit with a bottle in his hand. “Let me.” Clint whispered, taking the bottle. “It’s your turn, you know.”

“Are we really taking turns here?” Phil huffed a laugh.

“We don’t have to. I’d be glad to have you hot, slick, slamming into me again.” Clint enunciated with a grin, teasing Phil for how he reacted to dirty talk. Phil could dish it out better than anyone Clint knew, but if someone else did it, Phil blushed like the sun. 

“Shut up and lube me.” Phil smiled, his face and neck pink.

“Yes Sir.” Clint stripped Phil and worked his fingers inside him slow and easy until Phil was thrusting at him. Clint was dripping pre-cum and aching to feel Phil’s body wrapped around him. He lubed himself quick and pressed against Phil’s ass. 

“Now, Clint. Jesus, just fuck me Baby.” Phil keened. 

Clint did as he was told. He eased inside Phil and rocked slow, afraid he might come too soon. Phil’s legs wrapped around Clint’s and his feet planted on the bed, lifting his ass with every thrust. Clint fell forward onto his elbows and pressed their chests together. Phil’s cock was hot against his abdomen. 

Phil moaned for him, and Clint spread his legs a few inches and pushed in harder and farther with their slow rhythm. He could feel every one of Phil’s muscles tensing and relaxing underneath him. They rocked together, feeling each other’s skin; the only sounds were their tangled breaths and the slick sound of skin on skin.

“Roll left.” Clint breathed, and they carefully shifted in unison so Phil straddled Clint’s waist, Clint’s cock buried inside his ass. They got comfortable again, and Phil shifted back slightly before gasping a moan that shook Clint through the core. Clint grinned and took Phil’s cock in his hand as Phil’s fucked himself on Clint’s pulsing dick. “Fuck, shit, Phil, move faster.” Clint gasped suddenly as he jerked Phil. 

His whole world was on fire, with Phil at the center, slamming on his cock as they thrust together. Clint panted and moaned softly with every breath. Phil was his anchor, hot and heavy and wrapped around him, pulling him into orgasm. They spasmed together and Clint shot inside Phil just before Phil came, too, yelling and spurting between their stomachs. They rode it out, still thrusting in bursts until they came down. Phil rolled as Clint slid out of him, and they lay staring at each other, smiling softly and breathing each other’s air.

“Phil.” Clint whispered, in their cozy bliss, “I know it’s cliche, saying it after sex, but Babe, I love you.”

Phil chuckled and kissed Clint, gentle and wet. “I love you, too, Clint.” Then he sighed and groaned as he sat up. “Can we shower, now?”

Clint laughed and led the way.


	11. I Didn't Choose This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming out is never easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains homophobia, slurs, and an unfortunate amount of feels. I'm sorry. It had to be done.

Phil stepped off the quinjet with a firm plan in his mind. This was the first time he could go home in three days, and he decided that when he got back he would have dinner with Clint, and make his past-due Skype call to his sister . . . with Clint. He would introduce them, and scared or not, he would come out to her. Clint had been trying to convince him to do it all week, but Phil hadn’t been sure. After time away though, he realized that she would have to know sooner or later, and Phil was not a procrastinator.

As soon as Phil was off the runway, he called Clint. He grabbed his bag and walked out to the parking lot as the phone rang.

“Hey Babe, little busy. What’s up?” Clint picked up, breathing heavily. In the background, Phil heard gunfire and then Steve Rogers yelling something at Clint.

“Are you alright? I can call back-”

“No, no, it’s just training. All hands on deck at the tower. -Fuck, Stark! Your shiny iron ass is goin’ down!- Yeah, I mean, we’ll probably be done soon.”

Phil’s lips quirked into a small smile. He heard the familiar “fwip” of an arrow shot, followed by a distant “bang”. “I just called about our plans tonight. My sister asked for a Skype call, and we don’t talk very often, so-”

“You don’t want to tell her about me.” Clint accused.

Phil refrained from sighing. “It’s not like that, Clint.” This had come up in mild arguments since they brought it up last Saturday. Clint wanted to talk about family, to come out to everyone, no more secrets. Phil wasn’t as sure about it. He’d been in the closet for so long, he didn’t know if he could do it all at once. He had a reputation, and with family it was even worse. Coming out at fifty, after having had only one long distance sort-of girlfriend that didn’t last in the past ten years, it would be hard. Besides, what’s one more thing his family doesn’t know about him? They thought Phil was an accountant. They didn’t even know about his ‘near death experience’ two years ago. The only one he had any real contact with was his sister, and that was limited to a Skype call every few months, when they could manage it. Somehow, Sue was even busier than Phil. He worried about what she'd think, what she'd say, but on his way home, he'd decided to tell her. He'd faced aliens and supervillains; he could face his sister.

Clint misunderstood, though, and was ready to resume their argument. “What’s it like then, Phil?” He lowered his voice, and there was the sound of a door closing. He had left the training op then.

“Look, I'm still coming over. I'm going to tell her. I'm just …warming up to it. We'll talk about it when I get there, okay?” Phil paused. “I love you.” It came out as a question.

Clint was silent for a moment. “Okay. Love you too.”

**

Clint put the pasta into the boiling water. He didn't cook very often, what with all his superheroing and dog-rescuing and apartment saving, he mostly preferred to grab food where he could or order in. He could cook though, some things. Spaghetti carbonara was his specialty. Pasta, bacon, and cheese, where could he go wrong? And he wanted to make it up to Phil. He felt bad for pushing him to come out to everyone after what had happened at the party. But now, after arguing about it on and off all week, Phil came home ready to tell his sister over skype. Clint didn't get the switch, but he wasn't gonna complain. Maybe Phil just needed the few days away to be badass and fight assholes for him to recognize that whatever happened with his family, he would always have his friends, his team, his life behind him.

Clint was just stirring the meal together when Lucky perked up, barking and wagging at the door. A moment later, Phil walked in with an overnight bag. Clint turned off the stove and moved to greet him with a hug. Phil hastily set his things down to return the hug. Clint felt his warmth, calm, and love wash over him. Clint felt at home, even though Phil was the one who’d left. But that was a little too introspective for a hug, so he quickly let Phil go with a kiss.

“Hungry?” He asked, turning back to the kitchen.

“Did you cook?” Phil asked skeptically.

“Yes I did. And don’t say it like that. I can cook. I just don’t usually feel like it.” Clint handed him a bowl.

“So what made you feel like it tonight?” Phil served himself and sat on a barstool.

Clint shrugged. Phil could probably guess his reasons, and he didn’t feel like saying them out loud. “I just missed you.”

Phil’s lips curled around his fork. “This is delicious. Thank you. I missed you too.

They ate with quiet banter and washed the dishes together. Clint was feeling pretty good about having successfully avoided talking about coming out until then. Phil pulled a laptop out of his bag. 

“I thought about this for a long time, and I know your opinion on this, so I want to make a deal with you.” He booted the computer and looked Clint in the eye. 

Clint froze and squinted at him. “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll come out to Suzanne and introduce you to her . . . if you’ll call your brother and do the same. If you can’t do that, then you’re a hypocrite and you can’t judge me for struggling with this.”

“You want me to tell Barney?” Clint was more surprised than upset, but his voice came out incredulous. “Phil, I know I’m a hypocrite, and for good reason. Barney fucked me over last time he was here. He came to help, and when he left he took- Anyway, that’s not the point. Barney’s an asshole. I’m not-not calling him because I don’t want to tell him. I’m not calling him because he fucked off to godknowswhere playing family with my neighbors, and if he’s not bringing the money, I don’t want him to come back. And you know what? Even if I did tell him, I can bet he’d do two things,” Clint held up a finger. “One, he wouldn’t give a damn, and two, he’d kick my ass for thinking he would care.” Clint sat on the other barstool with a sigh and stared at his feet. “But your family isn’t like mine. Your family cares about you. Maybe it’s time you stopped keeping secrets from them. You don’t want to end up like Barney and me.”

Clint could feel Phil looking at him, probably all sad and sweet too, but he wouldn’t look up. “Clint,” Phil’s hand landed on his shoulder, and Clint had to look at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in such a bad place with him. You don’t have to tell him. And you’re right, I have a lot of secrets from my family, but I can’t exactly tell them that I work with superheroes. Besides, Suzanne has three kids and our father to take care of, along with a bastard ex-husband milking her for money. She doesn’t need to be worrying about me.” Phil sighed, and scratched Lucky behind the ears. The dog seemed a small comfort in their abysmal conversation. Clint wondered if it would be better if they were still arguing. “I can tell her who you are, though. She doesn’t need to know how we met, but that might be fun, telling someone outside our crazy superhero world that my boyfriend is Hawkeye.” Phil smiled lightly, and Clint decided this was much better than arguing. 

“How did we meet then? What’s our story?” Clint asked.

“We met when I was doing business with one of Stark’s accountants, struck up a conversation, went on a date, and here we are.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “They think you’re an accountant? I can’t, I can’t even imagine you as an accountant. Are you good at math?”

Phil laughed. “I’m okay at math. And accounting was what my father did after the military. Seemed easy enough to follow the same path.”

“Okay, are we calling her?” Clint asked, looking at the laptop screen. The profile labeled “Sue Coulson” had a green bubble and was waiting for them to click on her.  
Phil did, and a few seconds later, a slightly fuzzy feed of a woman’s face appeared on the screen.

She had a round face and long chestnut hair, and her eyes were the same blue-grey as Phil’s. She wore thin, rectangle glasses, and freckles peppered her cheeks and small nose. She wore no makeup and had shadows under her eyes that told of a long day. She smiled wide at Phil, and for a moment her eyes flicked to Clint and her smile nearly dropped. “Phil? Hey Phil!” She lilted. “How ya doin?” Clint immediately recognized her accent as Minnesotan, and he tried to remember if Phil ever said anything about his sister from Minnesota. 

“I’m great. How are you?” Phil smiled at her, his eyes crinkled in the corners. 

“Oh, you know, I’m getting through. Who’s your friend?” She squinted at them, trying to see them better, and Clint thought he saw a flash of recognition there, but before Phil spoke, it was gone.

“Suzanne, this is Clint Barton. He’s um … well Sue I’ve got some news.”

“Oh yeah? Well get it out then, Phil.”

“Oh, um. Okay,” Phil was stammering. Clint had only heard Phil stammer once before, when he had to ask Steve to do something. “I’m bisexual. Clint is my boyfriend.” Phil looked at her face like she might burst through the screen and bite him. Clint took his hand, out of the camera’s view.

“Oh, dear.” Sue leaned back from the camera. She had stopped smiling. “Well that’s… something. Are you sure?”

Clint really tried not to do it, but he snapped. “ _I’m_ pretty sure he is, Sue.”

Phil launched in to stop him. “Yes. I know this is sudden, and we were just going to talk and catch up, but I wanted you to know.”

“Well, I guess it’s not exactly a surprise, ya’know? I mean you’ve always been a bit…” She made a vague hand gesture and let her sentence hang.

“A bit what?” Phil’s face hardened slightly, like he was preparing for something unpleasant.

“Well, you know, like your whole thing with Captain America! You had dolls and posters and costumes. When you were a kid, sure, but you never grew out of it. And those friends you had in high school, well I can’t say I didn’t see the signs, Phil. What I don’t get is, why? You were happy with women before. Why would you do this?” She said the last with the tone of “What’s wrong with you?”

“I didn’t choose this, Suzanne, and I think you know that. But I am happy with it. I’m happy with Clint. I love him.” Clint gave him a small smile, and Phil returned it for a moment.

“Philip, do you know what I deal with over here? Dad talks about you all the time, you know. Can you imagine what this would do to him if he knew? And what about my kids, eh? What am I gonna tell ‘em? _You’ll_ never talk to them again, that’s for sure.”

Oh no. Clint watched Phil recoil; his features sank, and he let go of Clint’s hand. “Sue, please, you can’t-”

“No, _you_ can’t. Goodbye, Phil. And Clint Barton? I thought the Avengers were better than this. Faggot.”

The call disconnected.

Phil closed the laptop and fell into Clint’s arms. “I’m sorry.” Clint whispered. 

“It’s not your fault. I hoped she wouldn’t, but I should have known she wouldn’t take it well.” Phil sat back on his stool and looked defeated. “Her kids. She was worried about her kids. I love them. April and Brandon and Tommy. I would never… She thinks I’m a pervert. And Clint, she recognized you.” Fear covered Phil’s face when he looked at Clint, and Clint suddenly understood what that meant. 

“She’s going to tell people.” Clint breathed.

“Yeah, now you care if people know.”

“She’s going to spread rumors that _Hawkeye_ is a faggot. That’s very different from us coming out to our friends.”

“How can she back it up? She’s not going to let on that she has a gay brother.”

“People who think that way don’t need proof, Phil. I’m screwed.”


	12. The Gay Avenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A candid photo makes the news, Clint reveals his love of Phil's suits, and they get to dance the night away.

_“Yesterday marked the beginning of some minor buzz on social media about one of the Avengers, rumors that the purple-clad archer known as Hawkeye, is gay. A conservative forum seems to be the source, but that forum has been known to spread false rumors like this about many celebrities in the past. So why is this one getting noticed? Perhaps this photo, posted to twitter this morning, can shed some light on the subject. The candid photo of Hawkeye, real name: Clint Barton, walking the streets of Manhattan with another man, was taken last week by a fan named Miguel, who says he was just glad to see the superhero in person. It was only when he showed the picture to his friend that he noticed anything unusual about the captured scene._

“My friend Angie was like, ‘Who’s he with? Are they holding hands?’ and I looked again and they totally are! I was like ‘Is hawkeye gay?’ but like, that would be super cool, you know? Like having a superhero representing, right?” _Miguel said he himself is gay, and while it would be great to see an Avenger come out, he wanted to respect their privacy. He’s not the one who posted the picture._ “I wouldn’t do that. I was gonna delete it after I showed Angie, but then I saw it on twitter this morning, and I’m like ‘That’s my picture! Who posted that?!’ and I looked and it was Angie’s little brother. She said he took her phone and posted it without her knowing.” _Miguel said that they were going to take it down, but by then it had already been retweeted over 3000 times and was spreading to facebook and other social media as well. Miguel came forward shortly after the picture went viral and had this message for Hawkeye:_ “I’m sorry, Hawkeye. I shouldn’t have taken the picture in the first place. I don’t know if you’re gay or not, and even though I didn’t post it, I’m responsible for all this, not you. I’m really sorry man.”

_Now, the conservative forum post and the picture are separate, and could be coincidence, but many people are saying it doesn’t matter. Whether the hero is gay or not remains unknown, as Hawkeye and the Avengers have yet to respond to the rumors, but many are already showing their support. Others, however, like the original poster from the forum and their many followers, are calling Hawkeye, and even the other Avengers, a disgrace._

The video ended and everyone, even Phil, looked at Clint. The common floor had never been so quiet. 

“I’m sorry.” Phil whispered. 

“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for, we talked about that.” Clint closed his eyes and sighed. They knew it was coming. Clint was surprised it had taken this long. Suzanne had waited a whole week before posting anything. Phil had called her over and over, but she never answered. His voicemails all said the same thing. “Please talk to me. Don’t blame Clint.”

“What? Sorry for what?” Natasha chimed in.

“The forum post. It was Phil’s sister.” Clint said, voice even and flat.

“We told her last week, and she didn’t take it well.” Phil explained. Clint’s was quiet; he had no words. It wasn’t that he cared so much if people knew, it was more about the Avengers, Hawkeye. People wouldn’t see him as a superhero anymore. Now he’d be ‘the gay superhero’, ‘the gay Avenger’. No matter what their opinions were, they would all see him the same way. They would turn against him, against the Avengers, just for having a boyfriend. They would put Phil in the spotlight, possibly ruining his career. Everything they did would be followed, constant gossip. Hawkeye had been the one in the shadows. Clint liked it that way. People knew who he was, but they didn’t care, didn’t bother him, but now that he’s ‘interesting’, they would likely never leave him and Phil alone. 

Tony clapped his hands together, and Clint’s head snapped up. “I’ve got an idea.” Stark said, trademark Genius Grin on his face. “We throw a party. Clint and Phil can make it official, with the support of all the Avengers and every celebrity guest who can be here in eleven hours. Give me a “yes” now so Jarvis can call people.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Clint looked at Phil incredulously, “Yes?! You were set against telling anyone last week! What the fuck, Phil?” 

“We had a choice last week. Now we don’t. Trust me, running Shield, I know bad press. If we don’t address this, it’s only going to get worse. I’m not happy about this either. Suzanne is… well, it’s not like I’m excited to come out to anyone else, but you’re a recognized superhero, Clint; this is kind of a big deal. I think we should go for it. And with everyone’s support, we might actually make it out without everyone hating us.”

Clint stepped forward and dropped his forehead to Phil’s shoulder. “Shit.” Phil rubbed his back. Clint thought about it. He never wanted to be in the spotlight. He actually put effort into avoiding it sometimes. But Phil was right. They didn’t have a choice now; it was either stand up or get bombarded with more rumors as people got more and more nasty toward them. He sighed and straightened himself, turning to Stark. “Fine. Stupid public party it is.”

**

Phil stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. His suit was laid out for him on the bed, and Clint stood in front of the upright mirror across the room, buttoning his shirt. Phil caught him staring in the mirror when he dropped the towel. He raised an eyebrow, but Clint didn’t see. 

“Why do I have to wear this, again?” Clint grumped.

“This is the first time the world will see you with me, don’t you want to look fabulous?” Phil joked.

“This suit is not fabulous.” He shrugged on the jacket and pouted. “And no. I can leave the fabulous to you, Mr. My-Ass-Looks-Good-In-Everything.”

Phil laughed. “Well I think you’re gorgeous. The only times I’ve seen you in a suit were when you were packing a 9mm underneath it.”

“Who says I’m not packing tonight?” Clint smirked.

Phil took the bait as he picked a tie. “What are you packing tonight?”

Phil felt Clint behind him before he spoke. “I’m packing a different kind of heat.” Clint was grinning, but to his credit, he didn’t laugh, so Phil played along.

“Let me guess: you’ve got a full load and you’re looking to shoot?” He turned around and they both burst into a fit of giggles.

“Seriously though,” Clint said as they wound down. “I have been ogling you in suits for years.”

“Yeah?” Phil snaked his arms around Clint’s waist under his jacket. “Maybe we can do something with that. How much time do we have?”

“We can be fashionably late.” Clint met his lips with sudden passion, and Phil had to keep up. Their jackets were off and Clint was unzipping Phil’s pants before they even parted lips. Clint was eager to drop to his knees, but Phil reminded him to remove his pants so they wouldn’t wrinkle. Phil gave himself a few strokes, and if he wasn’t fully hard when Clint started licking, it certainly didn’t take long. Clint had a knack for blow jobs, and Phil soon had his hands tangled in his hair. Clint’s tongue swirled once, twice, and then his flushed lips wrapped around him, hot and wet and beautiful. Phil looked down as Clint pulled his head back, and they made eye contact briefly. Clint took him further into his mouth, and Phil let out a breathy moan. Again, Clint bobbed, never quite sucking but always wet and engulfing. It wouldn’t be long if he kept that up, but Phil guessed that’s what he was aiming for. One of Clint’s hands wrapped around the base of Phil’s dick, while the other reached down to touch himself. Clint could get off on getting Phil off. He’d done it before, and claimed he could do it without touching himself when they were in bed. Phil hummed and watched Clint jerk himself and suck him in time. It was a strange time for it, but Phil thought just then that despite all the things that were falling apart, everything felt alright so long as he was with Clint.

“Clint,” Phil keened, and Clint let off of him with a wet pop. 

“You close?” Clint grinned, his lips swollen and red. Phil nodded. He sank to the floor beside Clint and kissed him as they jerked themselves to climax. Phil was careful to come in his hand to avoid ruining their clothes, but Clint was less controlled. A groan caught in his throat as he striped Phil’s shirt with cum. 

“Shit,” Phil panted as they both came down. Clint laughed an apology and helped remove the shirt. “That was the nice one. I like the blue. Now I have to wear the grey one.” Phil pouted, but his chuckle at Clint ruined the effect. 

They redressed in record time and they were only a few minutes late because Phil had to redo Clint’s tie, and Clint insisted on kissing him while he did.

The party was in a huge room a few floors lower than the common floor, and it had an open floor plan allowing it to include a lounge area, a wet bar, and plenty of space for mingling and dancing. There were already a few people hanging around the bar, but no one Phil recognized. He found himself wishing he paid more attention to celebrity news so he would know some of their faces. The few he did recognize, he couldn’t put names to. Clint helped him as they joined the party by intermittently whispering, “Jesus, is that Tina Fey?” and “Oh my god, that’s Patrick Stewart.” But he was stumped when Clint said “Matt Murdock is here? Tony must know that we’re friends.” Phil could guess that Murdock wasn’t a celebrity as they went to talk to the only three people who looked more anxious than Clint. 

“Matt!” Clint grinned and one of the men looked up. Well, Phil realized ‘looked’ probably wasn’t the right word. He wore dark sunglasses, was carrying a folded cane, and his left hand never left the elbow of the man next to him. 

“Clint?” Matt smiled. “I was beginning to think we were at the wrong party.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure this is the only Gay Avengers Party.” Clint joked for a few laughs.

Matt gestured vaguely in Phil’s direction. “So, who’s this?” 

“I’m Phil Coulson. Nice to meet you.” Phil held out his hand before realizing that the man couldn’t see it, but somehow Matt found and shook his hand anyway. 

“Matt Murdock, and these are my good friends Foggy Nelson and Karen Page.” He waved a hand to his left and right. They were all young, in their thirties, and Phil couldn’t remember ever hearing their names before, even from Clint.

After they exchanged pleasantries, Clint slipped his hand down to hold Phil’s hand and said, “I didn’t know you were coming. Stark didn’t tell us.” 

“Yeah, we saw the news and then then got a call out of the blue. We weren’t gonna say no to Tony Stark! But I’m beginning to think we’re the only non-famous people here.” Foggy said nervously.

“Please, people hardly even know who we are, and we’re the cause of the commotion.” Clint laughed.

“But you’re Hawkeye! You’re a superhero! Coming out like this, it’s pretty big, isn’t it?” Karen chimed in.

“Well you saw the news, it’s pretty much our only option if we want the Avengers to stay in people’s good graces.” Clint answered grimly.

Phil lightened the statement. “But at least we get a party out of it. And we don’t have to worry about keeping a secret.”

They chatted for a few minutes as the party got underway. The room filled and they got drinks, mingling awkwardly with the crowd of celebrities. Some people congratulated them, some thanked Clint for being a hero, and they got nothing but love and support, as though these famous strangers were now their friends. There were other actual friends there too, though. The rest of the Avengers, Jane, Darcy, Colonel Rhodes, Maria Hill, a few other agents, and Kate Bishop who teased Clint, saying “You’re not the only Hawkeye, y’know. Be careful what you do with our name.” 

Clint gave her a light punch on the arm, “Yeah, you wouldn’t want anybody thinking you were into men, would ya?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughed.

Clint was about to respond when Tony got everyone’s attention. Phil saw and thought Stark must have been standing on a chair because he was at least a foot above everyone else. He started his speech with a thank you to everyone, and then rambled for a minute about love being blind or some such. “And we’re all here tonight to support two people who exemplify all of that: Clint Barton and Phil Coulson!” It was at that moment as the crowd parted that Phil saw there was a small platform stage set up, and he and Clint were expected to give some kind of speech. 

Phil took the first step, breathing “Smile.” in Clint’s ear as they walked to take a microphone (had that been there a minute ago?) from Tony.

“I hate microphones.” Clint whispered back. Phil saw him tap on each of his hearing aids before taking the mic. “Uh, thanks Tony. Seriously, this whole thing is because of him.” Clint said, clapping as Stark stepped back. Phil recognized his effort to draw attention away from himself and smiled. Applause died down quickly, allowing Clint to speak. “So uh, I’m Clint. Most of you have seen me running around with the Avengers or over in Bed Stuy as Hawkeye.” He shrugged, failing to look casual. “Well, this morning word got out that I might be gay. Who knew?” He laughed. “Well Phil and I are here to both confirm and deny that. Neither of us is gay, actually. Phil is bisexual, and I’m-” Clint looked fondly at Phil, “I’m only human. I mean, how could I not fall in love with him. You may not have heard his name before, but Phil is just as much a superhero as any of the Avengers. It’s actually because of him that we’re here at all, but that’s another story. Phil and I have known each other, been friends, for years. And when he asked me out, I didn’t even know it was a date until I woke up in his apartment the next morning.” He got a few laughs and looked a little more comfortable. It was the same story they had told their friends. In the crowd, Phil saw Kate rolling her eyes. When Clint spoke again, Phil was glad he was wrapping up because with his hearing aids turned off, Clint’s speech was starting to slur and increase in volume. He had a few more words of affection, a thank you, and then, “Well, I guess that’s really it. Phil, you got anything?”

Phil took the mic, mostly just to save Clint from the mild applause of New York City’s elite. “I just want to say thank you to all of you who came here on such short notice just to show support for us, for Clint. We really couldn’t be happier to see so many people who recognize that whether you’re a superhero, a celebrity, or just the average person trying to live and love, it doesn’t matter if you’re gay, straight, bi, pan, ace, or just plain queer, you deserve to love without being cast down. Thank you.”

He looked up, and Clint was looking at him like he hung the moon, and he hadn’t even been able to hear most of what Phil said. Phil touched his cheek and kissed him. Clint smiled into the kiss and when they broke apart there was applause. 

Clint took the mic and said, almost yelling, “Anyone else want to come out in front of a room full of people and cameras?” Phil’s eyes flicked to Steve and Bucky, who had come out to them that morning. Their audience laughed and returned to the party, but Steve gave Phil a nervous look. If they didn’t come out or be careful in hiding, they might end up doing this all over again. 

Clint took Phil’s hand and led them back into the throng of people and a new wave of compliments and praises for coming out. Clint turned his aids back on and led Phil to the dance floor. They danced slow. Phil didn’t even know that Clint liked to dance. Just like the suit, he only saw him do it if a mission required it.

As they stepped and swayed together, Clint whispered, “What did you say?” Phil told him. Clint hummed and sighed, “I love you.”

Maybe everything would be alright.


	13. You Got Your Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make the news again and get some unexpected phone calls.

Lucky bounded inside after his morning walk. Phil, as promised, was still in Clint’s apartment, sitting at the counter on his laptop. 

“Clint, come look at this.” Phil said urgently. He had four tabs open with different news stories about the party. They all praised Clint and the Avengers, some even quoted their impromptu speeches. The one Phil was pointing to though had two pictures under the headline “THE GAYVENGERS TWIST, NOT JUST HAWKEYE, BUT CAPTAIN AMERICA TOO?”

Oh no.

The first picture was of Clint and Phil’s kiss, but the second was Steve and Bucky dancing together in a more-than-friendly way. The article detailed the events of the party, half focusing on Clint and Phil, and half focusing on analysing Steve and Bucky’s every movement last night.

“We should have just told them to come out. They should have just done it.” Clint whined. 

“At least they’re not putting it in a bad light. Look it says ‘Maybe they were simply inspired by the romance in the air. Or maybe they’ve been together all along, hiding a-’” Phil’s voice dropped in disappointment, “‘-scandalous affair since World War II. That certainly would explain the emotional fights on the streets of Washington DC when Bucky Barnes was still under the control of-’ Nope, I give up. It’s all scandal gossip about Bucky from there on.” 

“It’s nothing concrete, but they built the story well enough, it’s sure to get people talking. Do you think they’ve seen it?” Clint ran a hand through his hair.

“Those two get up at the crack of dawn and they live with Tony Stark, I’m sure they’ve seen it.” Phil sighed and closed his laptop. “Should we go?”

Clint groaned. “I’d really rather not.” 

“Alright, I’ll make breakfast first.”

But while Clint was clearing the dishes after breakfast, Phil’s phone rang.

“Clint, it’s Suzanne!” Phil exclaimed. “Hello? Suzanne? - Oh. - Well then you shouldn’t have posted that shit about us! -”

Clint couldn’t hear Suzanne’s side of the conversation, but he got the gist of it. She was mad that people were on their side. Phil was trying to get her to see sense. She eventually apologized, but Phil couldn’t forgive her. She still thought it was wrong that Phil wasn’t satisfied with women, but with Phil’s coaxing she understood that he wasn’t a danger to her kids. Phil made her promise to remove her forum post. Then Phil calmed down and Sue asked him about how he knew the Avengers. Phil couldn’t give her their cover up story because she’d seen the news with Clint’s speech saying that they’ve been friends for years. Clint sat next to Phil on the couch and whispered that he should tell her the truth. 

Reluctantly, and leaving out most of the grizzly details, he did. When he finally hung up, he leaned down and lay his head in Clint’s lap, looking exhausted. “She thought I was an accountant for the Avengers. She couldn’t fathom me not being an accountant.” He laughed. “Then she wanted to know why I’m not dating the Black Widow. I couldn’t tell her that Nat would rip my balls off if I came onto her. I just said she’s not my type.” 

“Well that’s true at least.” Clint shrugged with an easy smile.

“Yeah, I’m more into lazy blond archers with old one-eyed dogs.” Phil smiled up at him.

“Well that worked out pretty well then, didn't it?” Clint bent over and kissed him. 

**

Clint sat on the floor, picking through Phil’s sparse collection of DVDs. He had it narrowed down to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade or Quantum of Solace when his phone buzzed in his pocket. His hearing aids said there was no caller ID, and Clint didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway.

“Guess what?” A familiar voice said.

“Barney?” Clint was incredulous. Why the hell was Barney calling him after months of nothing?

“No, dummy, you’re supposed to say ‘what?’ And then I say-”

“What do you want?” Clint sighed.

“-chickenbutt.” Barney was grinning like an idiot on the other end, Clint knew it. “You’re on the news y’know.”

“Yeah? Hadn’t noticed.” Clint put Quantum of Solace away and stood up. Phil wasn’t in the room.

“You coulda just told me, Clint. Had to hear it on the futzin news.” 

Clint frowned. “Are you serious? What would you have said, if I told you?”

There was a pause on the line, then “I don’t know, Clint, but isn’t that the kinda thing you tell your family? I mean, how long have you known that you’re… gay? Bi? What is it?”

“It’s nothin... queer, pan, I don’t know. It’s Phil. And a few guys before. The first was a little before we left the circus.” Clint didn’t feel like telling him about it. That first experience had almost been enough to put him off of guys altogether. He didn’t like to think about it.

“Really? You were just a kid!”

“I was old enough. You gonna lecture me on it now?” Clint challenged.

Barney paused, not answering. “What’s goin on with you, Clint?”

“Nothing. What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you tell me, if it’s been so long?” Barney almost sounded hurt. 

Clint sighed. He was gonna have to tell him. “Remember that tall lanky guy that kept hanging around us trying to get in with the carnies? Well I was young, and he came on to me, only I was too dumb to see that he was using me. I went along with it, and long story short, he said he’d kill me if I told anybody. Then that whole thing happened with Jacques. I couldn’t tell you after that. Not just ‘cause of that guy, I thought you would kill me if you knew. And then we grew up and shit happened, and it’s not like I thought you’d care about that anymore but, well, I thought you _wouldn’t care._ ”

“I don’t. Or I do? Am I supposed to care? I’m happy for you, anyway. Who’s the guy? Phil Coulson?”

“Yeah. He worked for Shield.” Clint didn’t know if Barney knew Shield was still going, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna be the one to tell him. 

“He’s a great guy. I really love him…. Look, I gotta go, Barn. It’s late.” He could have brought up the money, but this conversation was already tense and awkward enough.

“Yeah, alright. Simone and the kids said ‘hi’ by the way. They're out right now, but they wanted me to tell you.” Barney sounded rough, and Clint wanted to care, to return the sentiment, but he couldn’t. Maybe they’d work their shit out someday, just not now.

“Okay well, when you see them again, y’know.”

“Goodbye, Clint.”

“Bye.” Clint stared at his socks. Barney was trying, but that somehow made him feel worse. He sighed and looked up. Phil was watching him from the kitchen. “Well you got your wish after all. Barney called.”

“I heard …some of that. Everything okay?” Phil joined him in the living room. 

Clint hugged him. “Fine.”

Phil wrapped his arms around him, and Clint felt, not for the first time, that Phil was holding him together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay closure! The next one is the last one. Are you ready?


	14. Those who Make us Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today Show, awkwardness, love.

Phil stood back on the set, watching the Avengers get comfortable during the commercial break. They ran a mic check, and Sam cracked a nervous joke before they started the countdown. Tony and Steve seemed the most relaxed, having handled the press before. Bruce was anxious, fidgeting in his seat like he couldn’t get comfortable. Clint was watching Phil. 

He was standing behind the cameras; he wasn’t part of the interview, though he expected Clint would talk about him anyway. The Today Show had called them a few days before, asking for an interview. It wasn’t ideal, but they couldn’t pass up the chance to get their voices heard. Clint, Bucky, and Steve weren’t the only ones being talked about. Their reputations extended to all of the Avengers, and with the catastrophe at Shield still fresh in their memories, they’d probably have some questions for Natasha and Bruce too. Sam was one of the newest recruits, so he had a fresh eye into the Avengers’ lives, Thor was literally from another planet, and Tony, well he was just Tony Stark. So they called in all of them. They wanted one interview with all eight Avengers just to talk about gossip. Phil thought it was ridiculous. Then he heard that Tony was also asked to be on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon to top it all off. 

They were gonna have a hell of a time trying to get their message straight with all of them talking, but they were desperate. In the days since the party, the media coverage had gotten worse, rather than better. They had support pouring in on social media, but it came along with conservative idiots saying the Avengers were part of “the gay agenda.” Some of Hawkeye’s “fans” had gone crazy, and Phil was thankful that he’d never felt the need for a twitter account, but he still heard some of the awful things they were saying about him. So yeah, they needed this. Phil could only hope it would work out in their favor.

One of the crew held up three fingers and brought the count to zero.

It was Matt Lauer who was doing the interview, so right on cue he started. “Welcome back! We’re sitting down with the Avengers to hear their take on all of the rumors that have been flying, and hopefully to set some of it straight. Welcome and good morning to all of you!” 

A few of them said “Good morning” in return, but Clint was still staring at Phil. Phil smiled at him and quirked his head toward Matt. Clint took the hint and focused. Matt started off by asking Bucky about his escape from Hydra. Bucky answered nervously, but was completely honest. Lauer then asked Steve how it felt to have his friend back, and easily segued from that to asking if they were in a relationship. Phil thought it was unfair, how he did it, essentially backing Steve into a corner until he had to say “Yes.” By the time they wrapped for a commercial break, only Bucky and Steve had said anything significant. Phil supposed they’d broken up the interview questions on purpose to give sections of their story without editing.

Lauer reintroduced them after the break and changed the direction of their previous conversation as Phil had predicted. “Now, I want to ask you, starting with Ms. Natasha Romanoff, how has the attack from Hydra and the fallout of Shield affected you?”

Natasha didn’t seem to want to answer. “. . . I was forced to reveal the secrets of my past in order to save millions of lives.” She said stiffly.

“Right. Let’s talk about that. You were raised in a facility known as the Red Room, is that right?”

“With all due respect, Matt, that is a story that no one should have to hear this early in the morning.” She looked pleasant enough, but her voice was cold.

Matt looked like he might press her like he did Steve, but then thought better of it. “Okay. That’s okay. Sam? What about you? How did the recent events around Shield affect you?”

“Well, I uh, I wasn’t really involved with Shield, but when everything went down, Steve called me up. So I got to fight alongside Captain America, and then I became an Avenger.” Sam said proudly and then looked to Clint. 

“I pretty much lost my job, and I found out that a lot of other agents, my friends even, were undercover terrorists or supporters of Hydra… But, my ex-boss asked me out, so that’s a plus?” Clint shrugged, trying to be casual, and looked at Bucky.

“I’m pretty sure you know our answers.” Bucky said. 

“Yeah, we’ve got an idea.” Since Tony, Bruce, and Thor weren’t involved with Shield, they weren’t asked. “Sam Wilson, how does it feel, being the newest Avenger?”

Everyone looked bewildered, and Bucky, mildly offended. “Me?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “No, Bucky’s the new guy… But uh, I think for both of us, it’s exciting. Terrifying, fun, and yeah, exciting. And you should see these guys at home. Right now it’s all formal, but it really is a blast.”

Thor spoke up for the first time then, his voice demanding everyone’s attention. “We are all still new to the Avengers, I think, but we make a great team.” 

Matt nodded, “That you do. Let’s go back to Clint. You just said your boss asked you out. So Phil worked above you at Shield?”

“Yeah, he did. We both actually, we’ve talked about it, and both of us actually wanted to have a relationship sooner, but one of the reasons it took us so long to make a move is because we were afraid of screwing up that dynamic of me being a lower level agent and him having to give me orders and such. It’s still kind of tricky with the Avengers, but we love each other, we make it work.” Clint looked past the cameras at Phil and winked. That got a few smiles and chuckles.

“You guys are cute. How long have you been together?”

“Oh, uh, it’s the eighteenth, so I guess that’s two months. But like I said, we’ve both wanted this without saying anything for years. We’ve been committed since day one.”

Matt nodded. “And would you say that your coming out has been and will be good for the Avengers?”

Clint answered immediately. “Oh yes, definitely. I mean, it’s just the same as with us all living in the tower, it just adds another level of trust and intimacy to the team. Right?” He looked at Bucky and Steve beside him.

“Well it will be good for us individually too. We’re all friends, and being able to be open and honest with friends is important.” Bucky agreed.

Steve smiled. “Yeah, for sure. And I think it will be good for the public. People should see that you can be gay or bi and still be whoever you want to be, even a superhero.” 

“Absolutely. You’re sending a message to people who are still in the closet that it’s safe to come out. And the rest of you, I want to get your take on this. You’re obviously supportive of each other, right?”

Tony jumped in. “Of course! You know it’s really a non-issue for us. We’ve got bigger things to worry about than who’s sleeping with whom.”

“So I want to ask Dr. Banner, more commonly known as the Hulk. but you sir, even as yourself, as a scientist and a doctor, you are a hero even without the Hulk,”

Bruce looked surprised and flattered. “Thank you!”

“You were originally brought into the Avengers just as a consultant, is that right?”

“Well yes, that’s what they told me, but I think it was always part of the plan to have the other guy, the Hulk, in the back pocket.” Bruce answered.

“But you’ve received a lot of criticism for the Hulk. He is as much an Avenger as you are, but with how dangerous he can be, a lot of people are afraid and say that you should leave the Avengers, or only work as a consultant without bringing out the Hulk.”

The flattery was deflated and Bruce looked put-off. “Well in a perfect world I would never have to transform into the Hulk. And we do try to keep his appearances few and far between, but as you say, he is still, despite the ah, difficulties, a useful part of the team.”

“Do you think that, with all the negativity that you’ve received because of the Hulk, you have an idea of what it’s like to feel homophobic backlash like what your teammates have been getting?” Matt asked. That was it, the worst question of the day. Phil knew it would happen, and he was disappointed that it had to be directed at Bruce.

“ … Do I think that turning into the Hulk is like being gay?” He laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know. I really don’t think the experiences are comparable. Do you guys ever feel like being gay is like being the Hulk?” He turned it on Clint, Bucky, and Steve in front of him to point out the ridiculousness of the question. Thankfully it worked, and everyone except Matt burst into a fit of nervous giggles.

“I don’t know how to answer that without innuendo, to be honest.” Clint laughed.

When they settled down, Matt looked incredibly awkward, and Natasha spoke up. “It’s not about relating to each other’s experiences really; we can already relate in other ways. It’s about knowing that your friends are in a relationship that makes them happy. That’s what matters. Our friends are happy.”

“Yes,” Thor boomed. “On Asgard it is the same. It is normal to have same-gender relationships. Sexuality and gender are not limited by our bodies like they are on Midgard er, Earth. We are with those who make us happy.”

Sam looked back at Thor in awe. “Man you gotta take me with you when you go home. Literally everything you say about it is awesome.”

“Yeah, and take pictures for the rest of us.” Matt agreed. “Alright, one more question: Tony, you recently finished the reconstruction of what was formerly Stark Tower. It is gorgeous, by the way. You renamed it Avengers’ Tower, so I have to ask, what’s it like having this gang of superheroes living together under your roof?”

Tony made a sound of disagreement. “Well Matt, it’s not just my roof anymore. Our tower has an A on it now. We fight as a team, we live as a team. And if anyone still has a problem with any of the avengers, you’ve got a problem with all of them ‘cause we’ve got each other’s backs.”

“Tony’s right” Steve jumped in for a final note. “I’d like to remind people that, while most of us are human and we all have semi-normal lives, we’re here to serve the people. We fight to make sure that those who would do the public harm will not succeed. It shouldn’t matter who we are or what we do at home because in the end, we’re here for you. We love the American people, and the people of the world, and the nine realms, and the universe! We strive to keep you safe. If you’d rather that, because some of us are gay, we stopped doing that, well too bad. We keep fighting for you.”

“Excellent. A great message. And that’s all the time we have, so thank you so much for being on the show and for all that you do to keep us safe. … And when we come back, we’ll be showing you some new tips to keep your money safe. Right after these messages.” Lauer signed off.

As the cameras panned away, the whole room sighed in relief. They all stood up and there was general commotion as crew members came in to remove mics and fix the set. Tony whispered something to Lauer, and based on his expression it was less than friendly. Phil could imagine it had something to do with his questions pushing a little too much to make the Avengers look bad. Clint touched Phil’s arm to get his attention. 

“Was that all as awkward as it felt?” He asked.

“It was pretty awkward.” Phil conceded. “But I think it was good.”

“Yeah. Probably should still stay away from twitter though.” They walked off the set with the rest of the Avengers, eager to return to the “real world” where they could pretend people didn’t know everything about their lives.

**

-Ten months later-

“Jesus, how did we survive those first few months?” Phil asked as they looked back at the old interview video on YouTube. 

Clint had been thinking the same thing. He almost couldn’t believe they’d made it this far. “I have no idea. Thank god it calmed down though. And you stuck around.” Clint kissed him. 

“Did you ever doubt that I would stick around?”

Clint backtracked, “No, but I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t.”

“I know, and I’m glad for both of our sakes that we stuck it out.” Phil turned off the video and put the phone down. He took Clint’s hand. “Happy anniversary. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Clint sat up in the bed and turned to face Phil. He’d debated with himself on whether or not to do this; actually it was more a question of when he would do it, but in that moment, he suddenly decided it was time. “I’ve got an idea. Do you wanna get married?”

Phil’s eyes widened and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Really?”

Clint licked his lips and tried not to smile. He knew the answer without having to hear it. “Well I’ve been thinking about how you said you want a family someday. And it seems like the best place to start.”

“You’re serious?” Phil lit up. He leaned forward and looked Clint in the eyes. “You know I’m 52, right? If we’re gonna do this, ‘someday’ is coming up pretty fast.”

“I know.” Clint said, like it was obvious. “I’m ready. I want to do this with you… So will you marry me?”

Phil pulled him into a bear hug. “Yes!”

Clint couldn’t believe he’d done it. They were going to do this. He kissed Phil hard, and when they let go, they both grinned. “Wait!” Clint remembered. He jumped off the bed and opened the closet. He took the tiny grey box from the top shelf. “Here.” He sat back on the bed and put it in Phil’s hand. Phil raised his eyebrows, somehow surprised that Clint would have a ring with his proposal. He opened the box slowly and stared at it in awe.

“Thank you. I love you.” Phil whispered. Clint put the simple silver band on his finger and kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me through this wonderful journey. It's been a blast, start to finish. I can't believe it's been almost a year! I left this with an ending that could be a beginning. I'm not sure if Clint and Phil will have another full work in this series, but maybe a one-shot someday. If you're reading the whole series, remember to check the timeline to see how things line up. Also, I'll have the full transcript of the interview, since the first part of it was cut for this chapter, posted in chapter 4 of Bridge Over Troubled Water. Thank you for reading. I love you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/critiques/suggestions welcome!


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